OneShots
by Frisco
Summary: This is a collection of stories written for challenges on LiveJournal.  Each chapter is a standalone story.  WARNING: Spoilers for all seasons including S4.
1. To Whom It May Concern

_A/N: Based on known spoilers for S4._

**To Whom It May Concern**

Walking into the spartan office, Colonel Samantha Carter wondered who'd had the strength to remove Dr. Weir's personal effects. Very little remained - a desk and some chairs, a laptop, a few neatly stacked files. An empty bookcase stood forlornly in the corner.

Sam appreciated the gesture; it was awkward enough taking over for the popular leader without having the expedition members watch her pack Elizabeth's belongings. Carter had been through three leadership changes at the SGC, and each one had been difficult regardless of the circumstances. But this….

Sam sat at the desk and opened the laptop, logging on to the network and clicking on her email. She sighed as she looked at the inbox. Forty-seven messages. She'd been the leader of the expedition for less than a day, and she already had forty-seven emails. The hour was late so she decided to tackle the messages the next morning. She wandered through various files and directories, getting the lay of the land when one caught her eye. Saved to the laptop's hard drive, the file was labeled "Expedition Leader Only" and required her command code to open.

A video sprang to life, and Elizabeth Weir's face filled the screen. Carter hit the pause button and stared at the image for a minute. The woman looked markedly different than she had a few months ago. Elizabeth's face was drawn, tired; worry had etched new lines, and there was a deep sadness in her eyes. Her hair swept her shoulders, and the red shirt she wore highlighted the paleness of her skin. Pressing play, Sam watched as Weir took a deep breath and smiled wanly.

"_Hello. I am Dr. Elizabeth Weir, and it has been my highest privilege to lead the Atlantis expedition for the past three years. If you are watching this, I've either been replaced, gone missing, or died. I hope it's the last one, because I'm really going to hate it if it's one of the first two. Anyway, welcome to the hardest, and best, job you will ever have. The people here are the finest in at least two galaxies, and I'd like to take a moment to tell you about them - not the part you can read in their files, but who they really are."_

Carter smiled as the diplomat began to list the department heads and her personal insights into each one. The woman was obviously fond of every person and yet gave an objective assessment of their personality quirks. Sam frowned as Weir paused, struggling to blink back tears. Looking away and clearing her throat, Elizabeth continued.

"_Now, I know you will want to assemble your own team of advisors. My choice may seem a little odd, but I hope you will consider keeping them intact. Atlantis would be a distant memory if not for their abilities and actions._

"_Jennifer Keller is our acting Chief Medical Officer. She has the talent and the brains to be the permanent one, but she isn't emotionally ready yet. Carson Beckett, our CMO for the past two and a half years, died recently; his loss was a tremendous blow to the entire expedition. He was well-loved and well-respected by all. Keller needs some time to find her footing and to feel comfortable with the title. She is already doing the job and doing it very well. She is kind and compassionate but a complete tiger when it comes to patient care."_

Weir took a steadying breath; her slim fingers had been in constant motion as she spoke – fluttering, twisting in her hair, interlacing.

"_The rest of my senior staff is actually comprised of Colonel Sheppard's team. They are an eclectic group, each bringing unique abilities and insights._

"_Ronon Dex is a native of Pegasus from a planet called Sateda. He is just as tough and intense as he seems. He has seen the uglier side of this galaxy and lived to tell the tale. He responds well to authority even if he pushes the boundaries, and he knows how to intimidate so use that to your advantage if you need to. He doesn't speak much, but he says a lot when he does. Listen carefully to him."_

Sam smiled. She knew the type.

"_Teyla Emmagan is also from Pegasus. She is the leader of the Athosian people and as such has an understanding of the burdens of leadership. She has been a personal friend and confidante since we met. She is an unparalleled diplomat and negotiator, and she is very knowledgeable regarding potential trading partners. She has wise counsel but will not typically offer it unless you ask. Don't let her size fool you. She is a formidable warrior in both body and spirit. She also has a trace of Wraith DNA which allows her to sense and connect with them. Don't fear this ability. Use it. If she says they are near, act immediately. She has never been wrong."_

A wry smile crossed Weir's visage, and she clasp her hands in front of her.

"_There is no one quite like Dr. Rodney McKay, Chief Scientist and PhD in everything. He is actually just as smart as he says he is so try to not feed his ego. He is usually thinking five steps ahead of everyone else and is caustic, arrogant and many times rude. He is a bit of a hypochondriac and whines loudly when he doesn't want to do something. Right now, you are asking yourself why this man would even be on Atlantis much less on the senior staff. Quite simply, he is one of the best men I know. Most of his words are a cover for his true feelings. He would lay down his life to protect Atlantis and her people. He risks his life on a daily basis and occasionally displays amazing acts of courage. Look past the words and see the man._

"_It might also help to know that Carson Beckett was McKay's best friend. He is struggling with the loss. A man like Rodney doesn't make friends easily, and this has really hit him hard."_

The love Elizabeth had for her people was palpable. Her expression had softened with affection as she spoke about each one. Carter had giggled through most of the woman's description of McKay, remembering the man she had met years ago. She sobered as she recognized the truth of Weir's comments. Rodney wasn't that man anymore.

"_Which brings me to Lt. Col. John Sheppard. He has served faithfully as the military commander of Atlantis and my closest advisor for the past three years. I could not have asked for anyone better. He might be the most talented person I've ever met. He has an easy charm that belies the soldier underneath. He is fiercely loyal, able to control both Ronon and McKay, and a brilliant strategist. He has an astounding gift for thinking outside the box and is usually the one that devises the plan that saves the day. _

"_One thing to note about McKay and Sheppard is they bicker like siblings and can act like big kids together. It's a strange dynamic, but it works. Just know you sometimes have to protect them from themselves. _

"_When you read John's file, you will notice that on occasion he has disobeyed orders. Understand that it has never been for his own benefit. He has an insatiable need to protect others and will do what he thinks necessary to ensure their safety, even if it costs him his life. He rarely talks about himself and has difficulty expressing his feelings about others, which is another characteristic he shares with Rodney. If you want to know what Sheppard is really thinking, look in his eyes."_

Elizabeth dabbed at the corner of her eyes and smiled directly into the camera.

"_I wish you all the best as you lead this fantastic group of people. You will face unfathomable challenges and uncover the thrilling secrets of the Ancients and the Pegasus Galaxy. I have saved messages for a few people on this computer, and I would appreciate it if you would forward them on. I would also ask that you not show this video to any of them._

"_I am entrusting my friends, my family, to your hands. Please take care of them for me. Thank you and goodbye."_

The screen went dark as the video shut off. Sam stared at it for a while, lost in thought as she considered Weir's words. A knock broke her reverie, and she looked up to find Sheppard standing in the doorway.

"You're up late, Colonel."

"I could say the same thing about you, ma'am. Are you finding everything?"

Sam smiled sadly at him. "I suppose so. Would you like to sit down?"

The hesitation was minute, but she saw it. Emotions flickered across his face before the neutral mask slammed back in place and he smiled casually.

"Sure."

They made small talk for a few minutes about the control room personnel and the next day's activities, and Carter used the time to observe the man. He smiled, laughed even, but it never reached his eyes. Weir was right; everything you needed to know about John Sheppard was reflected in his eyes. They were haunted, filled with pain instead of the mischief she remembered from her time on Atlantis a few months prior. And she suddenly knew who had cleaned out the office.

"Well, ma'am, I think I'll call it a night. Do you remember the way to your quarters?"

"Yes, Col. Sheppard, I remember. Thank you. I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight." The pilot stopped at the entryway. "Good to have you here, Colonel."

Sam watched as he made his way through the control room, greeting each person by name. Then she scrolled through the computer files until she found the messages Weir left. She emailed them to the respective parties without opening them and closed the laptop. Pushing back from the desk, she walked to the railing that overlooked the gateroom, feeling the weight of her responsibility for the souls entrusted to her care.

"I'll take care of them for you, Elizabeth. I promise."

The End.

_Written for the hiatus challenge #1 on shepsatlantis for prompt #9 (Col. Carter)._


	2. More Than Meets the Eye

_A/N: Significant spoilers for Common Ground and one tiny non-spoilery item for Sunday._

**More Than Meets the Eye**

The clipped tones of the medical staff were the first indications of something wrong. The appearance of Dr. Caitlyn Donnelly was the second. Ignoring the pain raging in his side, Major Evan Lorne rose gingerly into an upright position when the nightshift attending emerged from the office area and headed his way. Her features were pinched, and her infectious grin was absent. Green eyes, usually sparkling, were dull, and even her fiery red hair seemed subdued. She put on a casual air as she studied Evan's chart. Forcing a smile, she began checking his vitals.

"How are you feeling today, Major?"

"What's wrong, Doc?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's the middle of the day. Why isn't Beckett here?"

An indefinable emotion flickered across her face, looking strangely like despair to Lorne, and every instinct he had screamed a warning. Something was dreadfully wrong.

"Dr. Beckett is… in a meeting."

"Wow, Doc, you really suck at lying. Tell me what's going on."

She glanced away and when she looked back, Evan was shocked to see tears in her eyes. "Col. Sheppard was captured by a man named Kolya a few hours ago."

"Kolya?" The name hit Lorne like a blow to the solar plexus. He had read the reports on the brutal Genii commander and had heard the rumors that ran rampant through the ranks. Evan's hatred of the Genii ran deep but couldn't compare to the enmity between Sheppard and Kolya.

"Tell me everything you know," he demanded.

Carson always kept his senior staff fully informed during emergency situations, and this was no exception. The young major's dismay grew exponentially at the story Donnelly told of demands that wouldn't be met and regular Wraith feedings. Lorne had been at the SGC the day the Daedalus had returned from Pegasus the first time. He had met Col. Everett on several occasions, but the weak old man that was beamed to the infirmary barely resembled the Marine he remembered. The thought of Sheppard like that, or worse, drove a spike through Evan's chest.

He threw back the sheet and turned carefully in an effort to rise.

Laying a firm hand on his shoulder, Caitlyn gently pushed him back. "What do you think you're doing, Major?"

"I need to help with the search."

"You are one day removed from emergency surgery. You aren't going anywhere. Everything that can be done is being done."

He knew she was right, but that was his CO out there. Lorne had never felt so frustrated. He had faced Unas, Goa'uld, Replicators, Wraith, the Genii and a thousand other dangers in two galaxies, and yet when he was needed most he was felled by a tiny appendix. His mind spun, searching for a way to help.

"Could I ask a favor, Doc?"

"That depends on what it is."

"I need a laptop."

"Major-"

"I am the ranking military officer until Col. Sheppard returns. I need to know what's happening, help coordinate the search teams."

"You need to rest."

"That's not going to happen until this is resolved. Please, Caitlyn."

The doctor regarded him carefully. "Do you promise not to move from this bed?"

"Yes."

"I'll see what I can do."

Evan inclined the bed and laid his head back as he waited for her return. He hadn't told her the entire truth. He knew Ronon would be leading the search for Sheppard, and there was no one Lorne trusted more to find his commander. He would monitor the logs, but his men were the best at what they did.

The major had two secret skills. They weren't secret in that no one could know, but secret in that he had never shared them with anyone in Atlantis. First, he painted. He hadn't been able to indulge in the hobby in years, but he hoped to get a chance soon. Second, he could hack any computer he found. He wasn't quite to McKay's level, but he wasn't far behind. One of his favorite pastimes was to change the screensaver on Sheppard's computer to something highly inappropriate for children and watch the man's reaction when it came on. Evan's goal in life was to make the colonel blush; he hadn't succeeded yet but not for lack of trying.

Donnelly wore a stern expression as she handed over the computer. "Remember, you promised to stay put."

"I haven't forgotten. I'll stay right here. Thanks, Doc."

She smiled grimly. "Don't overdo it, Major. I'll check back later."

Lorne powered on the laptop and began searching the communications database. He needed to know what to expect. He quickly found the day's transmissions, and the analog videos were easy to spot. Verifying the volume was low enough to not draw attention, he clicked on the first file. The onscreen conversation flowed around him as he concentrated on observing Sheppard. When the Wraith thrust his feeding hand to John's chest, Lorne almost jumped out of the bed. Biting back a curse, he watched as the colonel writhed in pain.

Evan stared with unbelieving eyes as Kolya repeated the process twice. He had heard the Genii man was cruel, but this went beyond anything he'd anticipated. The only thing more horrifying to Lorne than witnessing Sheppard's torture was watching the vibrant commander age prematurely.

Seething with rage, the soldier slammed the laptop closed and set it aside; the image of John, bound, gagged, struggling but not begging, was burned into his psyche forever. He had never admired the colonel more than he did at that moment. They had to find Sheppard before it was too late. The last video had given a two hour deadline, but the time stamp was almost three hours earlier.

Jaw clenched, he vowed to never stop looking. There was no planet in this galaxy big enough to hide Acastus Kolya from Lorne and his men. And Ronon. The satisfaction of that thought was short-lived as the memory of Everett returned. This couldn't be happening, not to John Sheppard. The man had been the best CO the major had ever had, although he would have never suspected it the first time they met.

OoOoOoOoO

Evan stepped from the communal shower, scrubbing his hair with a towel. "Who's getting promoted?"

"I don't know. Some guy from Atlantis."

"They aren't replacing Sumner?" The military commander's death had been big news around the SGC when the transmission from the expedition had been received.

Michaels shrugged. "Guess not. Apparently this guy, Sheldon, Sherlock, Shetland, something like that, has been running the show since Sumner died. I hear the expedition leader went to bat for him, convinced the brass to promote him."

"You mean Dr. Weir?" Lorne had liked her for the two seconds she had been in charge of the Stargate program.

"Yeah, I think that's right. Do you suppose there's something going on there?"

Evan considered it for a moment. "Nah, she doesn't strike me as the sexual favors type."

"Too uptight?"

"Takes her job too seriously. I don't think she would risk lives just to keep some guy happy. You know anything about him?"

"Just the scuttlebutt around here – Air Force major, some blot on his record but has the right gene, used to fly helos in Antarctica."

"An Air Force pilot that flies choppers?"

"What? You can't?" Michaels teased.

"No. I'm a fighter pilot. Helicopters are more of an Army or Marine thing, unless…."

"Unless what?"

"Never mind. Look, I've been off-world for three days. Can you cover for me?"

"Not a chance. Landry ordered every officer to the gateroom in two hours, dress blues. That includes you, Major. You know The Man will be taking roll."

Lorne sighed. "You're right. Want to grab a bite to eat first?"

"You bet."

Evan was not overly wowed at his first glimpse of the soon-to-be-promoted Major. He and Michaels had filled their trays and taken a seat when a lanky officer entered the mess hall with three civilians, one of whom he recognized as Weir.

"Is that him?"

"Yep."

"They're promoting that guy to lieutenant colonel and giving him command of Atlantis' military?" Lorne asked incredulously.

"Crazy, isn't it?"

The man had the most non-regulation haircut Evan had ever seen, his BDUs were improperly bloused, and his boots were untied.

"What the hell did Weir say to Landry?"

"I have no idea, but it must have been good. I will say that I've read a couple of reports they submitted. Sounds like the guy is tough as nails."

After the ceremony, Lorne found an empty room and an unused computer. He skimmed through a few reports of the early days of the expedition, grudgingly impressed with how John had conducted himself. Then he read Weir's account of the Genii invasion of Atlantis.

Staring at the screen, he tried to reconcile the description of that soldier to the man he'd seen earlier. Sheppard had single-handedly killed over sixty men. Evan searched for the military man's report of the incident, reading between the lines. An Air Force pilot that could fly choppers, shoot like a sniper, and not only plan but also execute a brilliant strategic assault. Lorne had met only one other Air Force man like that.

When Evan had joined the SGC, then-Colonel Jack O'Neill required personnel to complete a lengthy training regimen before being assigned to a team. It had taken Lorne three months to complete, three grueling months. At the end, he could shoot with the best of them, run for miles and hold his own in hand-to-hand combat. Except against Teal'c, of course. Not even O'Neill could beat him, although the colonel occasionally would pull a fancy special ops move that surprised the Jaffa.

Lorne read through the rest of Weir's summaries, stopping to find the detailed report of the Wraith siege they had just battled. He gaped at the description of Sheppard's solution and bravery. Evan didn't care what rumor said about the lieutenant colonel; this was no ordinary pilot. The major went straight to Landry's office to volunteer for the Atlantis expedition.

OoOoOoOoO

Michaels had thought he was nuts, but Lorne had never regretted the decision. There was so much more to John Sheppard than met the eye. The cocky grin and casual attitude covered a brilliant mind and a ferocity equal to Ronon's. Evan had long suspected that the military commander had special ops experience but had never hacked into his service record. Sheppard was a private man, rarely speaking of his past, and Lorne respected him too much to invade that privacy.

But Evan was an observer, and the colonel had too many skills to be just a pilot. The definitive answer had been given on M1X-948. Civil war had broken out in the middle of trade negotiations. His team and Sheppard's had been pinned down, fighting for a day and a half. They were tired, wet, cold, and out of ammunition. The rebels overran their position, and the Lantians had no choice but to fight hand to hand.

Lorne had seen John fight numerous times, typically sparring with Ronon or Teyla, but sometimes in combat situations. The major had always thought of his CO as an average fighter, capable of defending himself but nothing more. This day, though, the colonel was trying to protect McKay as well as lead them to the gate. The scientist had been hit in the leg by shrapnel and was doing what he could to stay upright and out of the way. A rebel spotted him and took aim. Evan couldn't get away and shouted a warning. Sheppard heard him and executed a move straight out of O'Neill's special ops book. Lorne had worked for three months during training and the three years since trying to master that spin-kick combination with absolutely no success, and John did it without thinking. Definitely more than just a pilot.

OoOoOoOoO

Intending to check email, the major reached for the laptop when the infirmary burst to life. Shouts could be heard from the office, and personnel began to scurry. No one stopped long enough to answer his questions, but the looks on their faces were jubilant rather than sorrowful. He heard running feet in the hall, and the doors slid open to reveal Beckett pulling a gurney with a perfectly healthy and young Sheppard sitting on it, his team surrounding him.

The Scot wheeled the gurney to a spot across the room and turned to face the other three.

"I know you want to be here, but I need a few minutes to examine Col. Sheppard."

"Carson-"

"Don't 'Carson' me, Rodney. I'll let you know when you can come back."

John's eyes had never lifted from his hands as they clenched and unclenched in his lap. "Thanks, Doc." His breathing was ragged, and sweat dripped from his face.

The medical staff had stopped in their tracks when they'd entered, staring in disbelief. Beckett glared a silent warning, and they hurried away to attend to their duties. He handed Sheppard a set of scrubs.

"Carson-"

"Don't you 'Carson' me either, Colonel. I can tell by looking at you that your system is filled with the enzyme, plus your body has been through unmentionable trauma today. Put on those scrubs, and let me take a look at you."

Sheppard bit his lip but nodded. "OK, Doc. But please, I can't be around people right now. I know McKay and the others mean well, but I just… I can't. I don't want them to see me like this."

The physician smiled gently. "Don't you worry about a thing. I can handle Rodney. I'll close off this section of the infirmary to everyone but me and a couple of my staff. Will that be sufficient?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Beckett pulled the privacy curtain and hurried out. It was a testament to how shaken everyone was that no one had noticed Lorne, and he had no idea what to do. He desperately wanted to be close if his CO needed anything and yet wanted to be far enough away to not witness the man fighting his demons as the enzyme wore off. His sense of duty asserted itself, and he vowed to stay right where he was unless specifically ordered out. He was second in command; he belonged by his CO's side.

Evan could hear fumbling, a few curses and even a muffled scream of frustration from behind the curtain followed by a grunt and a flying boot. After a few minutes, the room grew quiet. Carson returned carrying a tray of syringes and vials and headed straight to Sheppard's bed, once again never looking Lorne's direction. The conversation behind the curtain was too low for the major to hear, but he'd been in the infirmary often enough under the Scot's care to imagine what was being said.

Emerging with vials now filled with blood, Beckett slid the curtain closed and froze as his eyes met Evan's. He stared at Lorne for a brief second and then nodded before taking the samples to the lab. As the minutes stretched to an hour, the major decided no one was coming to move him so he picked up the laptop and began reading email.

Not knowing how long the head of Atlantis' military would be out of rotation, Evan perused the duty roster for the next three days, making a few adjustments and notifying Major Crenshaw, next in the command structure. Lorne shut down the computer and reclined the bed slightly as his body's need for rest began to make itself known. His consciousness registered a nurse taking vitals and adjusting IVs even as he slid into sleep.

An unholy scream rang through the infirmary, propelling Evan instantly awake. Pain rippled through his right side as he attempted to sit up, and the adrenaline racing through his veins caused his heart to pound. Carson sprinted from the office, disappearing behind the privacy curtain, and sounds of a struggle ensued. Unintelligible shouts from Sheppard drowned out Beckett's call for help although Donnelly and the nurse came running at the noise.

Dragging his IV pole, Lorne eased from the bed and maneuvered his way to the colonel's bed. He pulled back the curtain to find Carson holding John down while the two women tried to put on restraints.

"Stop!"

Beckett looked up in irritation. "Get back to bed, Major."

"Look at his wrists, Carson."

Sorrow colored the Scot's face. "I understand that, son, but between the nightmares and the enzyme effects he could seriously injure himself or someone else."

Sheppard's face was red with exertion, and sweat poured off him as he fought against the hands holding him. Eyes clenched shut, he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Please, Doc. There has to be another way. Can't you knock him out or something?"

"The enzyme breaks down the sedative before it can take effect. He just has to ride this out."

"Being restrained like that is going to kill him. I know he doesn't want anyone to see him this way, but I've got an idea."

"What do you want to do?"

"Call Ronon."

"Major, I gave Colonel Sheppard my word."

"He's the one guy that can control the colonel, and he won't breathe a word. If Sheppard asks, we were never here. As far as he will know, we were just a drug-induced hallucination."

"Still-"

"You'd rather put him in restraints?"

"No." The physician rubbed tired eyes. Clicking his earpiece, he called the Satedan, confirming he was alone and asking him to come to the infirmary.

Five minutes later, Dex strode in, anger and frustration rolling off him in waves. Kolya was definitely a dead man. Ronon's jaw clenched as he took in John's condition, and he glanced at Beckett.

"What do you need me to do, Doc?"

"Make sure he stays in this bed."

"I can do that."

The medical personnel released their hold on the pilot, and he curled into a fetal position, tremors shaking his body. Ronon pulled a chair next to the bed and sat with his legs stretched in front of him and an arm lying just close enough to Sheppard to provide comfort without actually touching.

The two women left, and Carson turned to Evan. "Time for you to get back in bed, Major."

"OK, Doc." He allowed the physician to guide him back and help him get settled. After checking the IV lines, Beckett bid them goodnight, promising to return in a couple of hours.

"Lorne."

Evan rose on an elbow to find Ronon looking at him. "Yeah?"

"Was this your idea?"

"I couldn't let him put those restraints on."

The Satedan gave him a small smile. "Good."

"I'd sit with him myself if I could."

"I know."

"Remember, he can't ever know we were here."

"I won't forget."

Lorne lay down and closed his eyes, able to relax for the first time since he'd heard of the capture. Some days he wondered what he'd been thinking when he volunteered to come to Atlantis, but most days he was grateful he'd been allowed to be a part of this crazy, often dysfunctional, always amazing family. This was one of those days.

The End.

_Written for Hiatus Challenge #2 on shepsatlantis for prompt #2: Pick an episode in Season 2 or 3 in which Lorne was absent and either explain his absence or insert him into the episode without making the episode significantly AU_.


	3. Whispering Names

_A/N: Spoilers for Sateda and The Return Pt 1&2_

**Whispering Names**

His return to Sateda had been painful, mentally and emotionally as well as physically. For eight and a half years, he'd pushed away the memories of the awful day his world had ended, allowing them to replay only in his subconscious. When he'd first come to Atlantis, his nightmares had been vivid, but life had resumed and the dreams had faded as he found a people that could actually join him in battling the Wraith.

Walking the familiar streets of Sateda had brought that day back. After all these years, it still felt like yesterday. Entering the hospital where he'd watched her die had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he did it, and the burden he always carried was a tiny bit lighter when he awoke in Atlantis' infirmary.

When the Ancestors returned and the Terrans went back to Earth, he'd felt lost. He had considered joining a Satedan settlement on Belka or Manara, had even gone so far as to contact Solen. But the survivors were merchants and farmers now; they had no fire left to fight. Teyla had found that spark in her time with the Lantians and invited him to join her people, promising that after they were settled on their new world with homes and harvest, she would continue to fight with him.

Ronon had banked the embers of his hatred and helped the Athosians start over, surprised to find that he enjoyed it. One old woman, Sehala, adopted him. Having lost her husband and children to the Wraith, she was alone and seemed to instinctively understand his restlessness, his need to be _doing_. He built her home and planted her garden while she cooked for him and mended his clothing. She was frail in body, with long gray hair and a face full of wrinkles, but she had a fierce and wise spirit.

His nightmares returned with a vengeance, and he tried to hide them from her, but her eyes missed nothing. She would gather him in her twig-like arms like he was a child and sooth the demons away, never asking but always comforting.

One night after the evening meal, Sehala invited him to sit with her for a while, studying him quietly with knowing eyes. "Did your people have a mourning ritual?"

"Yes."

"Have you observed this ritual for your fallen ones?"

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "No. I was invited last year to join our people on Belka for Name Day, but I didn't go."

"What is Name Day?"

"Once a year, Satedans mourn as one for the dead. We speak their names as a tribute to their lives."

"And you do not wish to honor your loved ones?"

He jumped up angrily. "Of course I wish to honor them. I just- To say their names out loud…."

"…makes it real?"

He sat down heavily. "Yes. I'm not ready."

She shuffled with the slow gait of the aged to his side and placed her hands on his face, turning him to her. "You _are_ ready. You have been for some time; you just do not want to admit it. They come to you in your dreams asking to be released."

Unwilling to acknowledge the truth of her words, he pulled away from her touch and left the tent. Dex walked for hours under the stars with the cool night air as his companion. He knew she was right, but he was afraid that acceptance would lead to complacency, and he desperately needed that rage to keep him focused.

His decision was postponed by the return of Sheppard and his people. After the Asurans were defeated and the Daedalus brought the rest of the expedition back, Ronon went with Teyla to the Athosian planet to retrieve his belongings. He was astonished to find a new suit of clothing in his size folded neatly on his bed. He recognized the cut and style to be the traditional Satedan funeral jacket and trousers. He should have been surprised that Sehala knew, but he wasn't. He arranged to have Halling check on her often with instructions to contact him immediately if she needed anything. Dex found her gathering flowers in a nearby field.

"Sehala!"

The old woman turned with a huge smile. "Ronon! It pleases me greatly to see you."

He knelt next to her. "I came for my things and to say goodbye. Please understand. I can't stop fighting until the Wraith are gone."

She patted his cheek with a gnarled hand. "I know. You must continue on your path."

"The clothes…."

"Perhaps you will join your people this year for Name Day. If not, keep them until you are ready."

Bidding her farewell, he returned to Atlantis and his life there. He had almost forgotten about the mourning garments until Teyla brought a message to him from Solen whom she had seen during her latest trade negotiation on Belka. Name Day was fast approaching.

OoOoOoOoO

Ronon stood in his quarters, staring at his reflection. The funeral clothing fit perfectly and yet so much time had passed since he'd seen himself as anything other than a soldier or a runner that he almost didn't recognize the man in the mirror. But it was time to move on, to accept that his old life had ended, and a new one had begun. Although he wasn't sure he'd actually be able to say her name, he would stand in remembrance. He shrugged into the long coat after strapping on his blaster and headed to the gateroom where he found his team waiting for him. He blinked in surprise and looked questioningly at each one. Rodney returned his stare; Teyla smiled gently; and John raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't think we were going to let you go alone, did you?" the colonel asked.

"Sheppard, I appreciate the gesture, but-"

"Ronon, we know that this is a Satedan ceremony, and we will not intrude." The Athosian gazed at him solemnly. "We simply wish to accompany you on the journey."

He nodded, unable to speak, and fixed his eyes on the floor until he heard the Ring activate. His team walked with him in silence to the gathering place Solen had chosen.

John clapped him on the shoulder as they reached the entry. "We'll be right here, Big Guy."

Dex removed his coat and handed it to Teyla. Straightening his jacket, he took a step toward the door and stopped. Today, he would just be Ronon – son, brother, bondmate. He slowly unstrapped the blaster and gave it to Sheppard and then deliberately removed the Wraith bones from around his neck.

Turning to McKay, he asked, "Would you hold these for me?"

The often irritating but always surprising scientist drew himself to his full height. "I would be honored."

Ronon strode into the darkened room with a bit of trepidation but began to relax as Satedan music and incense filled the air. Fond memories of childhood flashed in his mind, and he suddenly comprehended how much of himself he had denied in the past few years. While he had enjoyed hearing the stories of Earth and Athosian culture, he had never shared much about his. Even if he let the past go, he could still honor his people, keep them alive in a way, by telling of them and Sateda.

Gathering in clan groups, the leader of each held the emblem of lineage and a candle. Solen raised a chalice and began the mourning chant which the assembly echoed back. As the words faded, each person began to whisper the names of fallen loved ones. Ronon's voice caught in his throat as the grief in his soul ebbed and flowed. It crested with the same force as it had the day he discovered he was not alone, and he closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. Instead of fighting them, he allowed the feelings to surface as he remembered all he had lost, and he recited the name of each person, releasing them.

Drawing a deep breath, he called her to mind, reveling in the memory of her beauty and the gentleness of her touch. Breathing a goodbye, he whispered her name.

"Melena."

The End.

_Written for shepsatlantis Hiatus Challenge #3 Prompt #6 (Random Title)_


	4. Two Rules to Live By

_A/N: Massive spoilers for Adrift and Lifeline_

**Two Rules to Live By**

As a career military man, John had changed circumstances as often as he had changed socks. Standing on the balcony gazing at two of five moons over a different ocean with strangely scented air, he knew he would adapt quickly. He had new constellations to name and a new gate address to memorize, minor adjustments to his way of thinking. But the glass crunching under his boots as he shifted his weight reminded him of an act he could not accept.

He had been prepared to lose Weir from the moment Keller had pulled him aside. In his mind, she was already dead when Rodney suggested activating the nanites. Drawing his sidearm when she first awakened had been instinct. But she was so… _Elizabeth_ that he had relented on his order for an EM generator, insisting instead that McKay include a kill switch in the programming.

John had known he could trust Rodney to watch her during the mission and to activate the switch if necessary; the scientist may have reacted emotionally to Keller's request, but manipulating the nanites on Atlantis was entirely different to controlling them on Asuras. Giving the order to hit the switch was the hardest thing Sheppard had ever done.

Or so he had thought. Staring into her eyes as he allowed Ronon to pull him down that corridor, following her last order…. He swallowed hard against the memory.

He had two rules that he lived by. He had broken one. He would die before breaking the other.

The End.

_While writing a ficlet for a drabble fun meme, this idea wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down too. And this is probably as close to a drabble as I'll ever get._


	5. Vacation

_A/N: No spoilers. Just some silly fluff._

**Vacation**

Parry. Block. Duck.

"You… do not…get-" Spin. Kick. "-to pick the… vacation spot… again." Block. Thrust. "Ever!"

Leg sweep. Punch. Block.

"What's wrong, Sheppard? Thought you were in shape."

"Ow!" John hit the dirt as his legs flew out from under him. Dodging the bludgeon arcing toward his head, he rolled to his knees and lunged for his attacker. "I am… in shape, Big Guy." Kick. "But I came… here to relax…." He searched for the pipe he had been using. "…not to get… my ass kicked… by the Viking… horde." He swung with all his might, feeling the blow vibrate up his arms.

"Nice hit, Sheppard!"

"You could help, you know." Block. Duck. Upper cut.

"Are you kidding? This is better than the fights in Vegas. Not that I would ever actually go to the fights in Vegas."

"Shut up, McKay."

The blow caught him square on the chin, and he stumbled backward, spitting the blood from his mouth and shaking his head slightly to rid his vision of the stars. A shoulder to his mid-section drove him to the ground hard.

"Do you yield?" his opponent snarled.

"Not a chance… in hell," he gasped, rolling quickly. He landed another punch to his foe's neck, the only exposed body part thanks to chainmail, and reclaimed his pipe.

"You are doing very well, John."

Block. Block. Swipe. Parry.

"I didn't… mean it, Teyla.

"You know the rules. Either defeat your adversary or yield."

He tripped over a shoelace, and he braced for the impact he knew was coming. The staff hit him on the back left side of his ribcage, and he dropped to his knees as the breath was knocked from his lungs. Falling forward, he wrapped his arms around his adversary's legs, grunting in satisfaction as his assailant wavered before crashing to the ground.

John scrambled in an attempt to pin his opponent but was too slow. Using the pipe to haul himself to his feet, he circled to his left, looking for an opening. His attacker was approximately Rodney's height and build but was solid muscle and extremely quick. Years of contact sports had taught him to watch the hips not the shoulders, and he was rewarded when his foe's upper body faked right while the rest went left.

Open-field tackle. Punch. Punch.

"Why am I… the only one… out here?"

"Genius here."

"I'm not crazy."

"Because you choose to be."

Staggering to his feet, he risked a quick glance at his teammates. Rodney was stretched out under an umbrella which was under a shade tree; he slathered on sunscreen while happily munching on an assortment of pastries. Ronon lay on his stomach, head propped up with his fists, allowing the sun to soak into his back and legs. Teyla reclined in a lounge chair, floppy hat shading her face.

His brief moment of wondering where the hell she had gotten that hat was his undoing. A knee to his groin and a fist to his solar plexus put him down for the count.

"Yield," he whispered.

"Told you to use the armor," Ronon reminded him.

John squinted into the sun as his attacker towered over him. Long auburn hair tumbled down her back as she removed her helmet. He could hear McKay choking and closed his eyes. He was never going to live this down. The woman nodded solemnly at him and then at Teyla.

"He fights well for a man. What is your asking price?"

Teyla rose and stood with the woman, looking down at him.

"I'm really sorry, Teyla. I promise to not ever insult your cooking again."

Arching a brow at him, the Athosian smiled slightly and hesitated as the guffaws from his teammates grew louder.

"Teyla…."

The corner of her mouth quirked upward as she held his eye for another moment. "I have decided to keep this one as well. I will pay you for your time and effort."

The woman's gaze swept over the three men. "Are all from your world so wealthy?"

"No," Teyla replied. "I am quite fortunate."

The two women left to conclude their business, and John wobbled his way over to collapse on his back between Ronon and Rodney.

"You OK?" Dex asked.

John cracked one eye open. "You could have warned me, you know."

The Satedan smirked at him. "I know."

"You wanted a place with endless beaches and beautiful women."

"What I wanted, Rodney, was a vacation."

McKay reached into the cooler and handed him a beer. "So, vacation already. We've got two more days of this."

Holding the cold can to his throbbing jaw, he winced as he struggled to sit up. "What do you think they charge for a massage around here?"

"They'd probably break you in half," Ronon commented as he snatched one of pastries from the tray.

John climbed slowly into the chair Teyla had vacated, sighing in relief as he popped the can open and took a long drink. "You're probably right."

He felt boneless already after having every stitch of tension completely beat out of him. Setting the beer on the ground, he crossed his hands on his chest as his eyes slid shut. The warm sun on his face and the closeness of his friends relaxed him like nothing else could, and he was asleep within minutes.

The End.

_Written for karrikln1671 on LJ for drabble fun. She wanted something about John. Anything._


	6. Memento

_A/N: Missing scene from Reunion. Spoilers for that ep._

**Memento**

"Ronon has decided to leave Atlantis."

McKay's fingers stilled over the keyboard as the words sunk in. Unwilling to risk a look at Sheppard, Rodney made a show of peering at his monitor. "Are you sure?"

"It's pretty hard to misinterpret something like that, McKay."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

The scientist's head snapped up. "What?"

And for a split second John's impassive expression flickered before the mask slammed back into place. "What could I say? I can't force him to stay." He met the scientist's gaze. "We always knew this day might come."

Rodney had known; he had just refused to think about it. "So that's it? You're just going to let him leave?"

"You want me to throw him in a holding cell?" Sheppard moved away, randomly picking up devices. "I think that's what Carter is planning. She said she wanted to talk to him."

"Oh, I'm sure that will help. You should have heard their last conversation." He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at the pilot's back. "You can't let this happen."

John turned around, and McKay flinched at the sorrow and loss in his friend's eyes. "The funny thing is I actually understand. If I were in his position and found the three of you alive after nine years, I'd leave too." Embarrassment colored Sheppard's face as if he suddenly realized he had spoken aloud. "Um, anyway, be geared up and in the jumper bay by 0800 tomorrow," he threw over his shoulder on his way out.

As the door's slid shut, Rodney massaged his temples in an attempt to ward off the building headache. The wound from losing Carson had just begun to heal when they had lost Weir. Now this. Pushing away from the lab table, McKay tugged his uniform jacket into place and stalked out. He was going to give that overgrown Neanderthal a piece of his mind.

Expedition members scrambled out of his way as he marched down the corridor and into the transporter. Exiting, he rounded the corner and stomped to Ronon's quarters, activating the chime. When no response came he tried again. Still receiving no answer, he hammered a fist against the door.

"Open up! I want to talk to you."

At the silence, he overrode the lock and entered, stopping short at the lack of possessions. He had seen Dex's quarters once before when the man had returned from Sateda dragging a sack of junk in McKay's opinion; the room had been filled with books and art from dozens of cultures. Rodney walked in and turned around, his gaze taking in a single bag left in the floor and a hideous painting leaning against the wall. He was too late.

His breath caught as reality hit him and ripped the jagged wound open again. Ronon was really going to leave. Rodney sat down heavily on the bed as he tried to wrap his mind around the thought. While he had not had a close friendship with the Satedan like Sheppard, he and Dex had developed their own unique relationship, trading fighting techniques for scientific knowledge. More than that, they had saved each other's lives on countless occasions. To think that a man like Ronon and a man like him could become friends was odd to say the least, but they had. McKay had so few friends, real friends, and he was losing them one by one.

His eyes tracked back to the painting: a barren landscape filled with ruins and set against a bloody sky while three soldiers hefted swords in victory. Dark and violent, the piece was not something Rodney would ever consider owning, but it was definitely reminiscent of Ronon. Making a quick decision, McKay picked it up and, confirming the coast was clear, darted down the corridor.

Hurrying to his room, he rushed inside and locked the door before heading to the alcove in the back. Tucked far enough away that no one could see the contents, he kept what he valued most here: the photo of him and Carson, Ford's ball cap, the patch from Grodin's jacket, Elizabeth's necklace. He carefully leaned the painting against the table and stepped back. One more memento.

Sighing, he walked away. At least he would get the chance to say goodbye this time.


	7. A Dish Best Served Cold

_A/N: Spoilers for Common Ground and McKay and Mrs. Miller_

**A Dish Best Served Cold**

"John? Are you listening to me?"

His head snapped up as the concern in Weir's voice finally penetrated his consciousness. He had been drifting in a fog since his escape from Kolya's fun house several days ago. Exhaustion clung to him like a second skin, nightmares making sleep elusive and his appetite non-existent. He blinked slowly at her, trying to focus.

"Sorry. What did you say?"

Her gaze missed nothing as she studied him from his office doorway with an intensity that made him squirm. "Never mind." She took a step in and peered down at him. "When was the last time you got a decent night's sleep?"

Rubbing gritty eyes, he grinned ruefully. "It's been a while. You?"

She gave a small smile. "The same."

He shifted uncomfortably at her persistent scrutiny, dropping his eyes back to his laptop and scanning through his email.

"You know," she continued, "that offer for a few days of R&R on Earth still stands."

"Elizabeth…." He trailed off as one email address popped out at him. He clicked on it and felt icy shock crash through him, leaving numbness in its wake.

"John? What is it?"

He stared at the terse message from his brother for another minute, the numbness quickly consumed by the molten rage that flooded his veins. He felt his jaw clench, and he fought for control, risking a glance at her only after he was sure his normal nonchalant mask was back in place.

"I think you might be right," he began. "Maybe I do need a few days."

"Really?" she asked incredulously.

Forcing a smile, he nodded. "Really. Some time away will do me good."

"OK. When do you want to go?"

His eyes flicked back down to the message. "As soon as possible."

"I'll make the arrangements. Leaving tomorrow would give you five days on Earth before the Daedalus is scheduled to depart. You would be gone just over three weeks."

"That sounds great."

"Alright. Let me check with the SGC, but for now let's say you'll depart at eight in the morning."

"Eight it is. Thanks, Elizabeth."

"I hope your time away will be profitable."

"Me too." He struggled to keep the venom from his voice. Once the door closed behind her, he dropped the mask, a snarl marring his features as he reread the four word email.

'_He's been paroled. Graham._'

John leaned back in the chair, scrubbing his hands over his face as he plotted his next move. He took a deep breath and pushed away from his desk. Locating Lorne on internal sensors, Sheppard made his way to the gym. His second in command gave a short nod of understanding and his promise to take care of Atlantis in the intervening weeks. Confident in the young major's abilities, John headed to the medical suites to donate the daily blood sample that Beckett was requiring until the enzyme was completely flushed from his system.

"A few days on Earth will do you good, son. I would like you to stop by the SGC infirmary when you arrive. Most of the enzyme is gone, but I would like one more check before you go traipsing about."

Sheppard rolled down his sleeve and grinned at his favorite Scot as he hopped off the bed. "Done, Doc."

"John, try to get some rest. We need you here."

"Don't worry, Carson. I plan on using the time to put my past behind me." He hurried from the infirmary before Beckett could probe further. Ducking into a transporter, he arrived at crew quarters and hastened to his room to gather his belongings.

After packing a bag, he wandered down to McKay's lab. As military commander, John had access to everything, and as the person with the most natural use of the ATA gene he could do things even Rodney did not know about. The lab was empty since the scientist was scheduled to meet the team for dinner. Sheppard overrode the lock and headed to the storage room that housed the more interesting devices they had catalogued. A brief search revealed the one he needed, and, pocketing it, he retraced his steps to his quarters. He tucked the palm-sized device in his bag and convinced the Atlantis database that he had never been in the lab.

The colonel rushed to the mess hall, locating his team across the room. Teyla was waiting patiently for him while Ronon and Rodney were already devouring their meals. John grinned to himself as he grabbed a tray and went through the serving line. He had the best team in two galaxies. He knew they were worried about him, but they did not nag or fuss or try to force him to talk. They were just there, and that meant more to him than he would ever be able to express. He gathered his courage and carried his food to the table.

"Hey guys."

McKay stuffed a bite of chicken in his mouth then used his fork to punctuate his words. "Nice of you to join us. I thought Ronon was going to have to track you down."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I had some last minute packing to do."

Teyla raised a brow as Ronon frowned at him and McKay's fork paused in mid-air.

"What?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Rodney." Sheppard studiously ignored their expressions, concentrating on pushing his green beans around his plate.

"You are taking a trip, John?"

"Yeah, Teyla, I'm going to spend a few days on Earth. I, uh, just need to get away for a while." He risked a glance at each of them to gauge their reactions. Compassion-filled Athosian eyes met his, McKay's jaw dropped, and Dex's gaze narrowed, seeing more than it should.

As the Satedan continued to pin John with a calculating expression, Rodney spluttered a bit. "Really? You're seriously headed back to Earth?"

Sheppard smiled as he heard the real question. "Just for a few days. The majority of my trip will be spent returning on the Daedalus. Now, if someone had finished his intergalactic gate bridge, I could be home a lot faster."

"Oh, like it's my fault. I'll have you know that I am waiting on Sam to finish some calculations on her side. Say, maybe I should go with you. I could help her while you're… doing whatever it is you're going to be doing."

"Sure, McKay. I just hope Col. Carter isn't off-world. If she is, you can hang out with me. How do you feel about rock climbing?"

"Rock climbing? Are you nuts?"

"What's not to like? The great outdoors – fresh air, sunshine, just you, a harness and a mountain."

"On second thought, I have plenty to do here. Have fun with that. Oh, did I tell you what we found in the database this morning?"

Ronon's gaze never strayed far from Sheppard during the rest of the meal, and he trailed after John as they left the mess hall, blocking his entrance to the transporter.

"Something I can do for you, Ronon?"

"Why are you really going to Earth?"

"I told you I need a few days."

"I heard what you said. You aren't much better than McKay at lying."

John sighed as he met Ronon's eyes. "I have something I need to take care of."

Dex folded his arms across his chest and leaned on the door jamb. "Kolya's not there, Sheppard."

"I know that," he spit back. "I wasn't expecting to find him there."

"Then what are you expecting to find?"

"None of your damn business. Now let it go, and get out of my way."

Ronon did not budge. "I recognize that look, John. I wore it for a long time."

"What's your point?"

"It won't make you feel better."

"What won't?"

"Whatever it is you're going to do. It won't undo what happened to you. I thought killing the Wraith that destroyed Sateda and made me a runner was my answer, but it wasn't. I'm glad he's dead, but my people are still gone, and nothing will change that." Dex moved away from the door. "We'll find him, you know."

"Who?"

"Kolya. We'll find him and make him pay for what he did."

Stepping into the transporter, John turned to face Ronon. "I know. I'll see you when I get back."

The Satedan regarded him seriously. "Just don't do anything stupid."

XXX

Carson, Elizabeth and his team were waiting in the gateroom for him the next morning. Ignoring Ronon's stare and McKay's frown, John said his goodbyes and stepped through the event horizon. An airman at the SGC took his bag and escorted him to the infirmary where Dr. Lam drew some blood and ran him through a standard going-through-the-gate check.

"You'll need to give us a couple of hours to get the results, Colonel."

"I know. Is there a computer I can use while I wait?"

"Of course," Lam answered. "Follow me."

She led him to an unused office. A small desk held a computer, various office supplies, and a phone. "Will this do?"

He gave her his best smile. "Just what I needed. Thank, Doc."

"You're welcome. I'll let you know when your tests come back."

Sheppard closed the door after her, laughing at himself when he realized that the lock did not respond to a mental command here. Logging onto the computer, he began his search. Clicking through the various links on the California Department of Justice website, he found the sex offender search tool and typed in the name, releasing a ragged breath when a known address appeared. He scribbled the information on a scrap of paper, erased his tracks, and left to find Hank Landry.

The general was seated at his desk with the phone to his ear, a look of long-suffering on his face. He waved John in, smiling apologetically. "Yes, Mr. Woolsey. I understand your position, but I can't continue to fight this war without the funds the IOA promised. If you would prefer submitting to the Ori…. Yes, thank you. Tuesday will be fine." He hung up the phone and rubbed his temples. "Damn bureaucrats," he muttered. "Welcome back to Earth, Sheppard. Sorry I wasn't there to greet you, but I've had some red tape to wade through."

"I've met Mr. Woolsey, Sir."

Landry chuckled. "True." The smile faded as the general examined John. "How are you?"

Deciding honesty would help his cause, John shrugged a shoulder. "Been better."

"I bet. What are your plans while you're here?"

"With your permission, Sir, I'd like to take a trip to California."

"Got family there?"

"I grew up there. I'd like to spend a few days on the beach, do a little surfing, that sort of thing."

"As soon as Dr. Lam clears you, I'll have you flown out there. Today is Friday, and the Daedalus is scheduled to depart Tuesday at 0600 so I'll have Walter arrange a return flight for Monday afternoon."

"Thank you, Sir. I appreciate it."

XXX

Three hours later, Sheppard was on a private plane the top brass typically used. Apparently the Stargate program had more perks than just gate travel. He opened the envelope the airman had given him and pulled out his military ID, a valid driver's license, a cell phone, a debit card, some cash, and a confirmation for lodging. Once they landed, he tossed his bag in the rental car provided and drove to the hotel. Hoping for a good night's sleep and for his body to adjust to Earth time, he stumbled to the shower and then to bed. He was asleep almost instantly.

_The hand slammed into his chest, and excruciating pain shot through him. His eyes focused on the Wraith which morphed into Kolya who changed into his father._

"_Why weren't you home? She's dead because you weren't there."_

_He could feel the life draining from him and closed his eyes in acceptance. He deserved this and more._

John sat straight up, gasping as the remnants of the nightmare danced behind his eyes. Slumping forward, he tried to catch his breath and untangle his legs from the sweat-soaked sheets. He squinted at the clock, surprised to find he had slept for more than twelve hours. Climbing from the bed to splash water on his face, he stared at his reflection and grimaced at the dark circles and pale skin. The lines around his eyes and mouth had grown more pronounced, and the area around the small pink feeding scar was inflamed from his unconscious attempts to wipe it away.

After another quick shower, he threw on jeans, a t-shirt and his favorite sneakers. He tucked his ID and cash in one pocket and the stolen device in another before grabbing the car keys and heading out. A nearby shopping strip boasted a Starbucks and an internet café, and he dunked a muffin in his coffee while the driving directions printed.

He spent a few hours driving around, getting the lay of the land as he wound his way to the address. A halfway house. He should have known. John knocked on the door, but no one answered so he elected to wait another day and headed to the beach.

Lying on the sand, he felt the tension slowly seep from him as the sun warmed his face and the crashing waves lulled him. Determined to not lose his edge, he let the memory of that day wash over him.

"_I told you she liked you," Mario teased. "You never see that coming, do you?"_

_John punched his best friend's shoulder as they strolled down the sidewalk from the park. "She's just a friend."_

"_Right. You know…."_

_The blood rushing in John's ears drowned out Mario's words. Police cars and an ambulance surrounded his home, and the entire neighborhood stood in his front yard. He dashed forward, running harder than he ever had in his life, and skidded to a stop when a cop caught him._

"_Let me go! This is my house."_

"_I'm sorry, son. You need to wait here for now."_

"_Where's my mom?"_

_The police officer's eyes filled with sadness. "We've contacted your father. He's on his way."_

"_Mom!" John struggled in the man's grasp, but his thirteen year old muscles were no match for the burly officer. "Tell me where my mom is," he demanded as panic threatened to consume him._

_A car screeched to a halt behind them, and his father leapt out, racing to John's side. "Let go of my son."_

"_Are you Mr. Sheppard?"_

"_Yes. What's going on here? I received a call from a Detective Delacroix demanding that I come home at once."_

"_Come with me, sir. Uh, it might be better if the boy waited here."_

_His father turned denying eyes to John. "Where is your mother?"_

"_I don't know. I was at the park."_

"_The park? You were grounded, young man. What were you doing at the park?"_

_Hanging his head, John mumbled, "Mom said I could go."_

_The officer interrupted, "Mr. Sheppard, you need to come with me, please."_

"_Stay here, John. We'll talk about this later."_

Sheppard hunched over, holding his head with shaking hands. Time had not diminished the sound of his father's scream. The closest they had ever come to discussing that day was the night of his mother's funeral. His father had hurled a bottle of whiskey at the wall and had glared at John, ranting incoherently. He did not need to know the words to understand the meaning; he blamed himself as much as his father and brother did. If he had been home….

Dusting the sand from his pants as he stood, the pilot drove back to the hotel. Tomorrow he would right at least one wrong.

XXX

When Sheppard knocked on the front door of the halfway house the next day, a bald middle-aged man with a beer belly and bad teeth answered.

"Help you?"

"Yes. I'm… Jim Kirk. I'm trying to locate Harvey Willets. I understand he lives here."

"What's this about?"

"I'm a reporter with the Pegasus Times. We are doing a story on recently released sex offenders. I would like to interview Mr. Willets."

"He's at work right now. He should be home around four."

"Could you tell me where he works?"

"I'm not allowed to give out that kind of information. If you'll leave a phone number, I'll have Harvey call you if he wants to grant you an interview."

"That would be great." John rattled off the phone number of his high school prom date. "I look forward to hearing from him. Thank you for your time." He walked around the corner and over several blocks to his car to wait.

At half past three, Sheppard returned to the corner to keep watch. He was rewarded when a skinny old man with long greasy hair exited the city bus and shuffled toward the halfway house.

"Harvey Willets?"

The man turned at John's call. Squinting, he took a step forward. "Do I know you?"

Pulling the device from his pocket, the colonel activated it with a thought as he approached. "We've never actually met, Harvey, but our paths intersected once almost thirty years ago."

Willets eyes widened, and he halted. "You must have me confused with someone else."

John continued forward. "I don't think so, Harvey," he said softly. "It's hard for me to forget the man that destroyed my family." The old man's features came into focus as he neared – a scar that ran from temple to the right corner of his mouth, cloudy eyes, prison tattoos on his neck and forearms, missing front teeth.

Standing as straight as his feeble body would allow, Willets stared at Sheppard. "Do what you came to do, boy."

John's thumb grazed the top of the discharge button, but he paused as Ronon's words echoed in his ears: '_It won't undo what happened to you._'

The grieving child inside Sheppard warred with the man he had become. He had built a new life around saving people, killing only when he had no other choice. His time with Kolya had shown him how much he wanted that life, and he was suddenly struck with the knowledge of what he would be throwing away if he followed through with this. Willets had destroyed enough of his life.

Deactivating the device and stuffing it back in his pocket, John felt the ice around his heart begin to melt. "You're not worth it, old man." He turned and walked away swiftly before he could change his mind.

Rounding the corner, he stopped short when he found Rodney McKay leaning against his car, his face a mixture of anger and sadness.

"Did you do it?"

"What the hell are you doing here?"

The scientist pushed away from the car and stepped into John's personal space, ire causing his blue eyes to flame. "You didn't really think you could break into my lab and take a piece of equipment without me knowing, did you? Especially one designed to do what that one does. Do we need to get out of here before the cops show up to recover the dead body on the street?"

Sheppard slumped against the car and gave the device to Rodney. "No. I didn't use it."

McKay dropped the bit of Ancient tech in his pocket and held out his hand. "Keys."

John handed the car keys to Rodney and slid into the passenger seat. The scientist got behind the wheel and drove in silence until they reached a mostly unoccupied restaurant. Once they had placed their orders, the physicist crossed his arms and stared at him.

"When did you figure it out?" Sheppard asked.

"The night before you left."

"I see. What did Weir say?"

Rodney's face tightened as emotion flickered across it, finally resolving into irritation. "How stupid are you?" he growled. "I didn't say anything to her about it. I didn't tell anyone, although I think Ronon suspects something."

"Yeah, I know." John ran his hands through his hair. "How did you find me?"

"Please. Genius here. While you are surprisingly adept at hacking, you are not in my league, although I was impressed with your ability to delete your actions from Atlantis' database. It's a good thing I'm more paranoid than the Ancients were."

"How did you get here?"

"Daedalus beamed me down."

"No, I mean- What did you say?"

"Relax. Caldwell is off doing… colonel stuff. I made up an excuse to get aboard the Daedalus and told Novak I needed to do some research here. And before you ask, I sent Sam a message when you left asking her to request my help. I won't begin to tell you what I had to promise to get her to agree."

"You got Col. Carter involved in this?"

"She doesn't know what I'm doing right now. I just told her I needed some time on Earth. I'm headed back to the SGC to work on those calculations I mentioned so we can finish the bridge."

"Are you going to ask me who he was?"

"No."

The server arrived with their meal, the aroma making John's mouth water. For the first time in over a week, he was truly hungry. They dug into the food, with McKay providing the usual technobabble as he described the work he and Carter were doing. Sheppard felt the normalcy surround him and suddenly was anxious to return home. The travel time for the Daedalus seemed like an eternity. At least Rodney would be able to work while they traveled.

"Why are you here?"

The Canadian paused in mid-sentence. "What?"

"You told me how you got here, but you didn't tell me why you came."

McKay shifted uncomfortably as he stumbled through an explanation. "Well, I thought you might… need some…. That is, I, uh…. I really suck at this. We thought you were dead. When Kolya had you, I mean."

"Rodney-"

"You asked. It's obvious even to me that you've had a hard time since then, but we were trying to give you some space to work it out."

"And I appreciate that."

"Stop interrupting me. We all knew this trip was a cover for something else. Hell, Elizabeth knew that. But when you took that device…." McKay voice dropped to a whisper. "It's only good for one thing, John. To kill someone instantly. And you aren't the kind of man who kills."

Sheppard laughed harshly. "Haven't you been paying attention the past few years?"

"You defend; you don't murder. There's a difference. If you had killed that man, the guilt would have eaten you alive. You would have turned yourself in to the nearest cop."

"And you're here why?"

"To drag your ass back to Atlantis before you ruined your life."

"You didn't try to stop me from using the device."

"No, I didn't."

"Why?"

"Can't you just accept that I didn't and move on?"

"No. I need to know." John was unsure why it was so important to him, but it was.

Rodney dropped his fork and glared at him. "Because I trust you, that's why. We - Ronon, Teyla and I - trust you to do the right thing." His face had reddened, and his gaze dropped to his plate. "Now can we finish eating?"

"Sure." Sheppard stirred his tea, grateful for the strange new family he had. "Thanks, McKay."

**Several Weeks Later**

John found Rodney sitting on the balcony, blindly staring at the horizon.

"Did you get Jeannie settled on the Daedalus?"

McKay sighed. "Yeah. She's happy to be going home."

"She's nice. Are you sure you're related?"

"I wonder sometimes."

Sheppard blinked in surprise at the very un-Rodney remark. "What's wrong with you?"

The scientist's gaze stayed far away. "Hmmm? Oh, well, I uh, I was just thinking about family. Not a lot of great childhood memories here, but seeing my sister again, and with her family, I wonder…."

Taking a seat, John rested his back on the smooth walls of Atlantis and watched the waves crash against the pier. "My mom died when I was a kid. Did I ever tell you that?"

Rodney grew very still but continued to stare at the horizon. "No."

"I was thirteen, and I was coming home from the park…."

The End.

_Written for the Drabble Fun meme for katstale who wanted a story about John and revenge._


	8. The Box

_A/N: Tag for Doppleganger. Massive spoiler for that ep and Sunday._

**The Box**

The splash on her wrist caught Teyla unaware. As she rubbed the droplet away with her thumb, another replaced it, and she dabbed at her cheeks, amazed to find she still had tears left to shed. She sat suddenly on the edge of the bed, allowing herself a brief moment of grief for the loss of yet another friend.

Unclenching her fists and defiantly brushing away the tears, Teyla stood and resumed packing the contents of the small room. Keller had removed Heightmeyer's confidential files but had given the honor of collecting personal effects to the Athosian. Her hand lingered over the photographs of family arranged carefully on a side table, and she wondered who would inform them of Kate's death and if they would ever know the important work she had done.

Turning at the swish of the door, she was surprised to see Rodney hovering at the entrance. He gave a small smile and took a tentative step forward, his eyes taking in her face and the box she held.

"Um, hi. Sheppard told me you were here. I thought that, uh, you might need some help?" He took another couple of steps, glancing around the room, his gaze stopping on a musical instrument in the corner. "I didn't know she played the violin."

"She told me she was a member of the New York Philharmonic before she came here. I always wondered what that meant."

"That meant she was very, very good." He turned in a circle, searching. "There should be a case for it here somewhere." He knelt down and peered under the bed. "Ah, here it is."

Teyla watched as McKay placed the case on the bed and opened it, releasing a hint of wood and rosin. Carrying the instrument as if it were a ZPM, he gently laid it on the plush lining and clipped the bow inside. Closing the lid and snapping the latches, he avoided her gaze as he reached for the photos. His normal ramblings strangely subdued, they worked in silence for several minutes, carefully boxing up the remnants of a life.

"Is that everything?" he asked.

"There are a few garments in her closet, but I do not believe we are sending those back to Earth."

"Well, then, I guess I'll be going." McKay dusted his hands on his pants and made his way to the door.

"Rodney…."

He faced her, still not quite looking her in the eye.

"How are you feeling?"

Rubbing his chest unconsciously, he shrugged. "Oh, well, you know. A little tingling in the fingers, and I'm not sure all my vertebrae are still in the same place…." He hesitated as his eyes flicked to her face for an instant. "I'm fine, Teyla. Really. Keller gave me a clean bill of health."

"I am pleased to hear it. We were quite worried about you and John."

He tilted his head to the side as the corner of his mouth tugged upward. "Yeah, me too." He moved toward the door again but stopped. "How are you?"

"I will be… fine." She choked on the last word, hearing the lie even as she said it.

McKay finally met her eyes, and Teyla had to look away from the overwhelming sadness and compassion she found there. He took a step toward her and lifted a hand before letting it drop by his side.

"When Carson…." He cleared his throat and lowered his gaze to the ground. "When Carson died, the senselessness of it, the randomness…." He raised his eyes back to hers. "It does get better."

She drew a shaky breath, swallowing the tears that threatened to overflow again, and nodded. "I know." Placing the lid on the container, she ran her hand across the top. "How can a box hold a life?"

His eyes lost focus, and a shadow crossed his face. "It doesn't," he said simply as he lifted the box from her hands. "But it does hold tangible representations of that life."

Teyla picked up the instrument case and clutched it to her chest. "Thank you for helping me, Rodney."

He nodded, his ears reddening, and turned to go. Giving the empty room one last glance, she bid a silent farewell and followed.


	9. The Whole is Greater than the Sum

_A/N: Episode tag for Travelers. Spoilers for that ep (and a teensy one for Reunion)._

**The Whole is Greater than the Sum**

Sam reached the control room as the stargate blossomed to life.

"Well?"

Chuck squinted at his display then looked at her, a huge smile splitting his face. "Col. Sheppard's IDC, ma'am."

"Oh, thank God." Carter raced up the stairs to the jumper bay as the nose of the first ship poked through the event horizon. The past couple of days had kept her on pins and needles. It had started with Rodney shouting….

"_Sheppard!"_

_The hint of panic in his voice galvanized Sam into action. Bolting from her office, she met McKay in the middle of the bridge to the control room._

"_What's wrong?"_

"_I lost contact with Sheppard. He was on final approach to the gate when someone shot at him."_

"_Gather what you need. I'll have Lorne meet you in the jumper bay in ten minutes."_

_They turned in opposite directions, both reaching for their radios. She heard him contact Ronon just before Evan's voice spoke in her ear._

XXX

_The air of defeat was heavy as the team returned. Jaw clenched, Lorne stalked with unseeing eyes toward the armory. Teyla blinked rapidly as she reached the bottom of the stairs with Ronon at her shoulder._

"…_find a way."_

"_I hope so, Ronon. I don't think I can…."_

"_He's tough, Teyla. Besides, McKay will come up with something."_

_Carter glanced at Rodney who was staring at his teammates' backs, his expression open and vulnerable. When he noticed her scrutiny, his chin lifted, and he gave her a quick nod of acknowledgement before hurrying to his lab."_

XXX

_Deep in thought, Sam startled at the knock on her door. Putting aside the analysis of Sheppard's last known position, she found Rodney, Ronon and Teyla in her entryway._

"_Find something?"_

"_An SOS broadcast." McKay's look would have been smug if fear had not been lurking in his eyes._

"_You have a location?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Be in the jumper bay in twenty minutes. I'll have a strike team meet you there."_

_The three dashed from the room, and Carter had to grip the arms of her chair to keep herself from following. She had expected to face many challenges in her new role but never expected the hardest would be staying back while others did the exploring and rescuing. She had gone on that rescue mission her first day because she felt the need to prove herself, but she would not be doing that again any time soon, especially after the ass-chewing O'Neill had given her when he read the report. She had developed an entirely new respect for the three generals she had served under at the SGC. To be responsible for so many people…._

And now she waited for her people to return, needing to see them alive and in one piece. The first jumper rose into the bay and settled snugly into its berth. The second jumper followed closely behind and had barely touched the floor when the rear hatch began to open. Before it lowered completely, Ronon pushed his way out and strode quickly to the first jumper, Teyla and Rodney on his heels.

Sam hung back as Sheppard's dark head appeared. She caught a glimpse of a bruised cheek and a split lip before he touched his forehead to Teyla's. Ronon clasped the colonel's shoulder tightly, and John tossed him a small smile before meeting Rodney's eyes. The tension drained from McKay's frame as he accepted the pilot's unspoken thanks.

Wincing slightly, Sheppard straightened when he noticed her, and she stepped forward with a smile.

"Good to have you back, Colonel."

"It's good to be back," he replied with an answering grin. "Let's eat. I'm starved."

Carter's eyes narrowed as she took in his haggard appearance. His face was mottled with bruises, and he favored his left side, keeping his elbow tucked close to his ribs. "Why don't you swing by the infirmary first."

He held her gaze for a moment then dipped his head in resignation and walked away, not refusing the steadying hand of his Satedan teammate.

Relief flooded through her now that all of her people safely home, and she watched them leave before seeking out Lorne and the other jumper crews to congratulate them on a job well done.

OoOoOoOoO

Tray in hand, Sam paused as she caught sight of Sheppard and his team seated together in the middle of the mess hall, and an unfamiliar pang shot through her, robbing her of breath. To her complete surprise, she finally recognized the feeling as jealousy; she missed being part of a team more than she had ever thought possible. She squashed the impulse to sit with them and cast about the room for another option. Spotting Jennifer Keller, she bypassed the group, catching Ronon's smirk and Teyla's massive eye roll at something McKay said, and joined the doctor.

"How are you today?"

"Fine, Colonel. And you?"

"Better now. And please, call me Sam."

"Sam it is."

Shaking out her napkin, Carter took a sip of water and let her eyes drift back to John and his team. "How is Col. Sheppard?"

"He should be fine. Besides the obvious cuts and bruises, he has some tenderness in his ribs and a strange mark on his right side that apparently came from a stunner fired at point blank range. We are also running a few tests for radiation poisoning-"

"Radiation poisoning?"

Keller shrugged. "He says he wasn't exposed for long, but I didn't want to take any chances. I don't expect to find anything."

"Do any of the other off-world teams get into as much trouble as this one?"

"No, thank God," Jennifer laughed. Her eyes flickered over to the team, and she sobered. "To be honest, I'm amazed sometimes that they're still alive. I don't know how they do it."

Sam glanced over to see John's lids slowly sliding shut and the team move as one to help their leader to his quarters. She knew.


	10. Useless

_A/N: Episode tag for Miller's Crossing. Spoilers for that ep and one for The Seer._

**Useless**

Teyla exited the gate into Atlantis' main atrium with a sigh, grateful the mourning ritual for the Loki leader was finally over. Her team had accompanied her to the funeral, but they did not last long once the seven days of silence began. Rodney left after an hour, followed closely by Ronon. John stayed for almost ten hours before accepting the message in her eyes that she would be safe amongst the mourners, most of whom she had known since childhood.

Taking a deep breath, she smiled as she soaked in the familiar curves of the room, wondering exactly when she had come to think of this place as home. As she turned toward crew quarters, a niggling in the back of her head whispered a warning. Returning to the gateroom, she peered up into the control area, noting the tight features and clipped phrases. Spotting Col. Carter in her office, Teyla, hurried up the stairs and across the bridge.

At her knock, Sam waved her in. "Welcome back."

"Thank you, Colonel. It is good to be back." She glanced over her shoulder to the control room. "What is wrong?"

The Athosian could see the denial forming on the other woman's lips before she leaned back in her chair and massaged her forehead. "We received word from Earth a few days ago that Rodney's sister was kidnapped. He left with John and Ronon almost immediately."

"Have they found her? Is Jeannie safe?"

"They found her," Carter reassured. "Her health was in jeopardy at first, but they think she'll be fine. Rodney is still there, but John and Ronon are on Midway waiting for the quarantine to end."

Emmagan studied the colonel's face for a moment, trying to read the unfamiliar visage. Teyla did not know her very well, still could not quite think of her as the leader of Atlantis, but years of negotiations had honed the Athosian's instincts, and she was certain there was more to the story than Sam was admitting. The alarm that had been quietly sounding in her mind started to wail in earnest, and she suddenly realized what was missing.

"Where is the Wraith? Is he dead?"

Carter's eyes widened. "How did you- Oh, I forgot you can sense them. What would make you think he was dead?"

"I could feel him weakening over the past several weeks."

"I see." Sam glanced away, a frown marring her features. "He isn't dead. He's on Midway too. Rodney needed his help."

Teyla could not contain her shock. "You allowed a Wraith to go to Earth?"

"It took a lot of convincing, but the contributions made by Rodney over the years certainly helped as did Ronon's vow to not let the Wraith out of his sight." Carter smiled grimly. "The Wraith saved Jeannie's life."

"Do not forget that he is still Wraith."

Indefinable emotions flickered across Sam's features. "Believe me, everyone is well aware of that."

XXX

After a bath and a hot meal, Teyla made her way back to the control room to read through the reports filed by the off-world teams in her absence. She was just over halfway through when the gate activated. Moving to the overhang, she was joined by Carter as John and Ronon stepped through, followed by several Marines escorting the Wraith in chains. His presence registered in her mind immediately as did his renewed strength. She gaped in horror at Sam.

"He's fed."

The colonel nodded. "I know."

Teyla turned her gaze back to the group in the gateroom as John glanced upward, the bleakness in his eyes belying his carefully neutral expression. Ronon's bearing was stiff, and he strode quickly toward his quarters, never looking back.

"You are certain Rodney is unharmed?" she whispered.

"I spoke with him an hour ago," Carter replied. "He and Jeannie are fine."

"Then who?"

"The kidnapper." Sam's voice was flat, emotionless.

Gripping the railing until her fingers were numb, Emmagan watched John lead the Wraith toward the holding cell.

"If you'll excuse me, Colonel, I have some matters to attend."

XXX

Late that evening Teyla located Ronon brutally beating a practice dummy in the gym. Pulling her bantos rods from her bag, she warmed up with some simple moves while keeping Dex in her periphery. She continued her workout in solitude until she heard the tell-tale clack of sticks.

Whirling, she attacked with a vengeance, catching the Satedan off-guard for a brief second. He recovered quickly and matched her blow for blow in silence until they were both panting from exertion. She bowed and retrieved a water bottle from her bag, sitting on the bench as he paced the room.

"Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Do not lie to me, Ronon. You have been agitated since you returned, and now you are stalking around this room like a caged animal. What has made you so angry?"

Dex yanked a towel and a bottle of water from his own bag, taking a leisurely drink while avoiding her eyes. Smiling inwardly, Teyla waited patiently since she knew that not only could she outlast him but that he needed a few moments to find his words.

"I hate feeling useless."

"Were you not allowed to assist in the search for Jeannie?"

He shrugged. "I was allowed. There just wasn't anything for me to do until Sheppard figured out who had them."

"Them?"

His eyes darkened in rage. "They got McKay too."

"Tell me."

Ronon related the events of the kidnapping and subsequent search, including Jeannie's injection and the Wraith's deteriorating condition.

"What happened next?"

He sat down heavily, elbows on his knees and arms dangling as he stared at the floor. "I don't know."

She blinked in surprise. "I do not understand."

"I was watching McKay. Sheppard wanted me to keep him away from his lab."

"Why?"

"The Wraith was in there. The _starving_ Wraith."

Her eyes rounded as she absorbed the implications. "Oh, Rodney."

"I've never seen McKay like that – so quiet and angry. He kept trying to get away from me. Succeeded once too." Ronon chuckled hollowly. "He can be really sneaky when he wants, and he knew the building better, but he didn't get away for long. Or in time."

"Colonel Carter told me the Wraith fed on the kidnapper."

The Satedan glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Yeah. Sheppard said he was showing the guy the lab, and the Wraith got the advantage."

"And you believe this?"

Snorting in derision, he stood and began to pace again. "Of course not. The Wraith would never catch Sheppard off-guard if he were healthy much less as weak as he was. And I doubt Sheppard was giving a tour."

"You think John forced the man into the lab?"

"No." Ronon halted, his back to her. "I don't know. I don't think so. He won't talk about it, but his nightmares are back."

She dropped her head in her hands, aching for her teammates. John would never admit that he was hurting, but the increasingly haunted look in his eyes that had appeared after losing Elizabeth was what kept Teyla from telling him of her pregnancy. Rodney would obsess over what happened until he made himself sick, and Ronon would continue to blame himself for not being able to help.

"I wish I had been there."

Leaning against the wall, Dex shook his head. "No, you don't. There was nothing you could have done."

"I could have been there with my team."

He looked at her curiously. "Would you have tried to talk Sheppard out of it?"

Emmagan considered his question carefully, running the various scenarios through her mind. "No," she decided. "To allow the Wraith to die would be to condemn everyone in this galaxy to death at the hands of the Replicators. As much as I detest working with the Wraith, we need his help to stop them. And I would not allow Rodney, or John, to sacrifice himself. Since Jeannie was dying as a result of this man's actions, to offer his life to save her is an act of redemption. I would not have stopped John from asking."

The Satedan pushed away from the wall and picked up his bag. "I wouldn't have bothered to ask."

She gathered her belongings and joined him. "So John entrusted you with Rodney's life instead of the kidnapper's."

Ronon paused in the doorway, face impassive but deep emotion flashing in his eyes.

Teyla smiled gently as she deliberately laid her hand over the tattoo on his arm and squeezed lightly. "Perhaps you were not as useless as you think."

The End.

_Written for the shepsatlantis challenge._


	11. Counting the Cost

_A/N: Another episode tag for Miller's Crossing. Spoilers abound._

**Counting the Cost**

John jolted awake, strangling on the scream caught in his throat. For one ridiculous moment, he was back in that cell listening to the footsteps of the guards as they neared. Then the universe righted itself, and he recognized the clutter of his own room. Untangling his legs from the now-soaked sheets, he sat on the edge of the bed, willing his heart back into his chest. Once the trembling was under control, he walked to the bathroom for a shower, the very idea of going back to sleep making his stomach turn.

Squinting as the light flickered on, he activated the shower controls and stripped. Head bowed, he allowed the water to wash away the sweat, hoping the guilt would go with it. After scrubbing hard enough to scour skin from bone, he dried off and pulled on his favorite set of sweats. His still unsteady legs carried him back to his main room where he changed the bed linens and sorted his laundry. Three in the morning should ensure a free washer and dryer, and he headed to the common crew area.

Laundry was a simple exercise for him since he only had two baskets – black and white. After loading the machines, he climbed in the most comfortable chair available and flipped through the four month old magazines he found, looking at the pages but not seeing them. Once his clothes were dry, he folded them hastily and returned to his quarters. Deciding four-thirty was a great time to go for a jog, he stuffed his feet in his sneakers and made his way to the north pier. Surprised by the humidity, he cursed himself for forgetting they were on a new planet and then chose to run in the heat anyway.

Sheppard pushed himself until the only concept on which his brain could focus was the burning in his legs. And then he ran harder. The mind-numbing pain brought relief in a sense, and he would have continued had his lungs not had other plans. Stumbling to a halt, he pressed a hand to the stitch in his side, doubling over as he gasped for air. He leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor, resting his head on his knees. Sleep deprivation and overexertion were not working their usual magic on his problems; his mind refused to shut off. John was not unrealistic. He knew that ignoring issues did not make them go away. But these were not usual issues, and he had been dealt so many blows in the past few months – Carson dying, leaving Elizabeth behind, letting Ronon go, causing Heightmeyer's death, watching Rodney die even if it was a dream, being unable to find Teyla's people, and now Wallace….

Feeling his muscles beginning to knot, he struggled to his feet and walked around until he was loose enough to stretch safely. He checked his watch and cringed when he discovered that not only had he run for over three hours, he had missed breakfast with his team and was fifteen minutes away from being late for his meeting with Carter. Reaching for his earpiece, he was dismayed to find it missing. He raced to his quarters, thankful for transporters, and tried to not dwell on just how screwed up he really was as he took another shower and donned a clean uniform. Snatching his radio and holster from his bedside table, he hustled back to the transporter and arrived at Sam's office with twenty seconds to spare.

She glanced up at his knock and arched a brow as she reached for her comm. "McKay, this is Carter. He's here."

Wincing, she pulled the piece from her ear, allowing Rodney's barrage to broadcast in the room. "…_common courtesy to let us know he_…."

Sam turned the radio off, smiling apologetically before turning serious. "I assume you have a good reason for not answering the citywide page we've been issuing for almost an hour."

Chagrinned, he ran through various excuses before choosing the truth. "I didn't hear it. I was outside on the north pier. Without my comm. I'm really sorry."

She studied him, her gaze lingering on his grey complexion and hollow eyes. "Let's take a walk."

He nodded and followed her out, mentally forcing his legs to hold him and wishing desperately for a cup of coffee to occupy his shaking fingers. They strolled quietly from the control room, past Elizabeth's balcony, and through the corridors of Atlantis to a small hallway he had never been down before. The doors opened to a large railed area that wrapped around the entire spire. He leaned over the edge, taking in the view as the ocean breeze swept over him, and then closed his eyes and took a moment to just breathe. Sheppard found her stare disconcerting, blue eyes that pierced him, seeing more than he wanted to reveal. As he rested his back against the railing, he held his expression steady and met her gaze.

Carter moved forward to stand beside him, propping her elbows on the rail. "I got lost and stumbled upon this place my first week here." She grinned at him. "Don't tell Rodney. I'll never live it down."

He chuckled. "I understand. He won't hear it from me."

She kept her eyes on the horizon as she clasped her hands and quietly asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

John raised his gaze skyward, watching the clouds swirl overhead. "Talk about what?"

"You know, Colonel, I spent over a decade going off-world. I've seen things, done things, that still keep me awake at night, and I've gotten pretty good at recognizing that affliction in others so don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." She turned to him, face filled with compassion. "I'm not going to order you to talk to me, John, but I know something is eating you alive."

He wanted to deny it, to tell her he was fine, that nothing was wrong, but the words would not come as Wallace's withered face flashed in his mind. Sheppard had no illusions; he had known Sam would see right through the official report, and a tiny part of him wanted to tell her everything and get her opinion. But the rest of him wanted to forget it had ever happened, to bury it in that deep dark place inside that rarely saw the light of day. He took no satisfaction or pride in his actions, but he did not regret them either. He had done what he had deemed necessary to protect those for whom he was responsible, and he would do it again. His subconscious replayed his decision every time he closed his eyes, and occasionally when they were open, reminding him of the piece of his soul he had given up.

Swallowing thickly, he shook his head. "I can't."

Carter touched his arm lightly. "It's OK. I understand. I do. If you change your mind, you know where to find me." She moved toward the entrance, pausing in the doorway. "Don't let this destroy you, John. Find a way to deal with it, and remember, you aren't alone."

XXX

Sheppard went through the motions for the rest of the day - apologizing to his team for being off-radio and missing breakfast, conducting a class at the gun range for the newest batch of scientists, signing off on the previous day's military mission reports after checking carefully for any hint of the Athosians, visiting three soldiers recovering in the infirmary, and finally forcing himself to go to the lab where McKay and the Wraith were working. Rodney gave an update that John did not hear since the image of the feeding continued to dance before his eyes.

Hurrying away in as dignified a manner as possible, Sheppard found himself in the gateroom, halfway to Weir's office before realizing it was now Carter's office and Elizabeth would not be there. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he wavered in indecision before going back to his own office. He craved solitude but knew sleep would be waiting for him in his quarters. Chin propped on his palm, he flipped open the laptop and scrolled through the eighty-seven emails he had received in the past few hours, but exhaustion hovered around him, tugging on his eyelids until he could not fight it any longer.

_John rattled the barred door again prompting the face in the other cell to appear._

"_You are wasting your time. There is no escape."_

"_Go to hell. Nobody asked you."_

"_This is your punishment, Sheppard. You will pay for your sins."_

_He stalked over to the window and stared at the ratty white hair and strangely marked grey face. "I told you to leave me alone. I'll rattle the bars if I feel like it."_

_The Wraith laughed mirthlessly. "Waste your energy then. You'll regret it later."_

_Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and John returned to the door as Kolya rounded the corner with Elizabeth in one hand and Rodney in the other. A guard pulled the Wraith from his cell as McKay and Weir were chained to chairs. A steady thump sounded continually from another room._

"_Choose."_

_Sheppard stared at the Genii commander. "Choose what?"_

"_Choose. Which one lives?"_

"_I- I can't choose."_

"_You have to. Pick one, or they both die."_

"_Why?"  
_

"_You know why," Wallace replied. "This is what you're good at."_

"_No, I- please. Don't make me choose."_

"_Either choose or I will."_

"_No! Me. I choose me."_

_Wallace grinned at him. "Sorry. That's not your punishment. Choosing one of them to die is."_

"_I can't…."_

_Kolya/Wallace nodded at the guard who removed the manacle from the Wraith. "I'll let him choose."_

_The feeding hand slammed into Rodney's chest. Blue eyes widened in shock and pain, and his body arched in response. John screamed as McKay's face shriveled, became Larrin's, then Wallace's, then his own. Agony radiated from his core, stealing his breath and his life. He glanced up into the Wraith's face and found his own staring back at him._

"_I told you I was what you feared the most."_

The smack of the laptop hitting the floor jerked him from the dream. He could feel the bruise on his forearm beginning to form, and he swallowed hard against the rawness in his throat. After tossing the computer and scattered papers back on his desk, he rushed blindly from the room, never seeing Major Lorne who stood at the other end of the hallway talking quietly on his radio.

XXX

Sheppard wandered around until his pulse returned to normal and then made his way down to the gym, pleased to find Ronon and Teyla sparring. Taking a seat, he lost himself in their fluid motions. While neither acknowledged him, he knew they were aware of his presence.

Teyla spun, aiming a kick at Ronon's midriff which he dodged. Launching a counterattack, the Satedan swiped one stick at her head and another at her torso. Uncharacteristically, she lost form as she whirled away, dropping her bantos rods to protect her abdomen.

The former runner stared at her slack-jawed. "You OK?"

Blushing, she retrieved her sticks and gave a short bow. "Yes. I let my mind wander momentarily. Please continue."

They began circling each other as the doors slid open to reveal McKay. Giving them a wide berth, he sat next to John and watched them spar.

"I could never do that."

"None of us will ever be able to do that like them, but you could learn some of it. I thought Ronon was teaching you."

"Well, that was…Before."

Before. They all measured time now by Before or After Elizabeth.

"It doesn't have to be. You can still do the things you enjoy."

"Enjoy? Does that look like something I would enjoy?"

Teyla smacked Ronon on the back with one rod while sweeping his legs from under him with another. He landed hard, the sound of his breath whooshing from his lungs causing both Sheppard and McKay to wince in sympathy.

"Ouch. That part isn't so enjoyable," John commented as Teyla helped Ronon up. "Why did you want to learn?"

Face reddening, the scientist mumbled, "So I wouldn't be such a liability on missions." His gaze grew distant and his expression bitter. "I guess we know that hasn't changed. Maybe I should start again."

"While I would never discourage combat training, do it because you want to learn, not out of some misguided sense of guilt. What's done is done. When are you going to accept that?"

Rodney looked him straight in the eye as the clatter of sticks silenced. "When you do."

The words hit Sheppard like a blow, and he felt himself flinch. "I told you-"

"I know what you said. Me believing you is not the problem."

"Who said there was a problem?"

McKay exchanged glances with Ronon and Teyla who had drawn close. "We say."

"I really don't-"

Teyla sat down next to him. "You do not have to talk if you do not wish. However, we have something to say."

"No one here disagrees with your decision," Ronon stated. "You did what needed to be done."

"Because of you, I still have a sister, and we still have a chance to save the people in this galaxy from the Replicators."

"You do not have to carry this burden alone, John."

Eyes – blue, green and brown – gazed at him, eyes filled with compassion instead of condemnation. Shoulders slumped and head bowed, he nodded mutely. He hoped they had some idea of how much he cared for them. He had told Teyla once how bad he was at expressing his emotions, and he had not exaggerated. He let his actions reflect them instead. Sometimes he let go, as he had with Ronon when his friends appeared. Sometimes he held on, as he had with McKay back on Earth. Sometimes he was just a presence as he had been with Teyla when Kate died. He knew he had handled each situation badly, awkwardly, but they seemed to accept it for what it was.

Now, as they reciprocated, he struggled to accept it, the usual fear and insecurity threatening to intervene. Sheppard closed his eyes, seeing Wallace's face twist in pain even under the sedation. Releasing the breath he had not realized he was holding, John glanced at each member of his team and nodded again.

"I put some pictures of Jeannie's family in my pocket and had Wallace brought to an interrogation room…."

The End.

_Written for kristen999 and kriadydragon on LJ who wanted to know about John's nightmares._


	12. Resolutions

_A/N: Massive spoilers through This Mortal Coil_

**Resolutions**

The two moons shone brilliantly over the vast expanse of ocean in front of her. Teyla had seen the other three moons in the jumper once and squinted now in an attempt to find them, but as always they were hidden from her view. Leaning against the railing, she brushed at a rogue tear. So much change in the span of one Earth year.

The hum of voices and the clink of glass echoed through the gateroom and out to her ears on the balcony. The party had begun several hours earlier and had yet to reach its climax when a ball fell in a town called New York. At least this year, on this still unnamed planet, the occasion was at night unlike last year on Lantea. John had declared that ten in the morning was 'just not right' for a New Year's Eve party.

These people – they called themselves by several different terms but she always thought of them as Lanteans – had a much different way of celebrating the beginnings of a new year than her people. Teyla had been happy in the past to join in the Lantean holidays knowing that she would also have the opportunity to honor her heritage at the Athosian festivals. But now….

She decided to forego the rest of the Lantean party in favor of beginning the Athosian ceremony already prepared in her room. Dabbing another tear, she straightened, smoothing her multicolored blouse and flowing skirt before exiting the balcony. As she entered the gateroom, her eyes automatically sought her teammates.

Ronon was sprawled in a chair, the beer in his hand not his first judging by his relaxed posture. Chips and queso were a requirement for the Satedan to attend a party, and he was quickly demolishing a large helping while focusing intently on whatever Dr. Keller was saying.

Sheppard stood in the control room engaged in a quiet conversation with Col. Carter, their eyes continuously scanning the Atrium area. John and Sam each held an untouched drink and snacked from a plate set between them.

Rodney was nowhere in sight. Normally that would not be unusual, but the past few weeks the physicist had been obsessed with organizing and executing the various holidays celebrated on Earth this time of year – Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Eid, Christmas, Boxing Day, Kwanzaa, New Year's Eve. Teyla had expected a great deal of teasing from Sheppard over McKay's atypical enthusiasm, surprised when the pilot instead offered his assistance until she remembered whose idea the celebrations had originally been.

Assuming the scientist to be in his lab, Teyla made a silent exit from the party. Once she reached her quarters, she changed into her ceremonial robe and rearranged the list, the bell, a small dish, her laser, and a candle on the table she had placed in the center of the room. Satisfied that everything was ready, she began the ritual chant just as her door chimed. Ignoring her irritation at the interruption, she walked calmly to the door and waved it open.

"Rodney. What are you doing here?"

McKay stood nervously in the entryway holding a tea set on a tray, his eyes widening at her attire. "Uh, may I come in?"

She hesitated a moment before nodding. "Of course."

As she moved away, his eyes caught sight of the table, and his face flushed. "Oh, I- um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I should have…." He began to back out the door.

"It is quite all right, Rodney. You are welcome to enter. I had not started."

His eyes darted between her and the table, the question apparent on his face. To his credit, he merely straightened and turned to face her fully.

"I forgot, with everything going on, about the memorial tea ceremony for your father. Is it too late to share it?"

Blinking back the tears that threatened again, she wondered if she would ever really understand these people, especially this one. "No, it is not too late. Thank you for remembering."

"Well, I know it's not something to be done alone, and since your people…. Sorry." McKay put the tea set down and began the ceremony.

Alone. She had felt alone many times – when her father died, when her people moved to the mainland, when Charin died. But never like this. She nodded in the right places and sipped the tea at the correct intervals as she mulled over his words. Alone. Her hand drifted to her gradually swelling abdomen that would soon be apparent to all. She was not as alone as she appeared.

And looking into the sad eyes of her teammate, she knew she was not as alone as she felt. While she would always be Athosian, she was also now Lantean as well. She murmured the final phrase and drank the last drop of the tea.

The silence lasted for a microsecond.

"I'll let you get back to what you were doing." McKay stood and picked up the tray. "I guess I'll see you-"

"Rodney, thank you for doing this. Very few Athosian observances are meant to be done alone. I was beginning our Remembrance Ceremony when you arrived. I would be honored if you would join me."

"What would I have to do?"

Teyla smiled at the anxiety in his voice. "Just listen. However, if you have other plans…."

"No. No other plans. Katie wanted to go to the party, but I just couldn't…. I was going to work on the replicator code, but it can wait a few more minutes."

"Then let us begin." She moved to the table and gestured for him to stand beside her. "There is a short chant at the inception in which I will light the candle. Then I will read the list, sounding the bell for each name. Once I have finished, the list will be burned in the flame."

"What list?"

"Athosians use the beginning of a new year to remember those we have lost in the past year. This is a list of those Atlantis has lost."

McKay picked up the paper and glanced through the names. "You knew all of these people?"

"We honor all those lost not just the ones we knew personally."

"There aren't any Athosian names on the list."

"It is not time for the ceremony on New Athos, and until my people are found, the list will not be accurate."

"Oh." Placing the paper back on the table, the physicist clasped his hands behind him and rocked back and forth.

Teyla closed her eyes and centered herself. She began the Ancient chant, lighting the candle at the appropriate time, pleased when Rodney's movements gradually stilled. Holding the list in her left hand and the bell in her right, she commenced reading.

"Milly Hewston" _dong_

"Carson Beckett" _dong_

"Alex Viera" _dong_

"Christof Vanderkleg" _dong_

"Mark Graydon" _dong_

XXX

By the end of the list, Rodney was reading the names with her.

"Kate Heightmeyer" _dong_

"Elizabeth Weir" _dong_

As the last ring faded, the silence closed in around them. Replacing the bell on the table, she rolled the paper and allowed the candle to ignite it. Dropping it in the dish, she watched as the element consumed the names and released them to the air to be forever a part of this world.

Turning to her teammate, she found him staring at the burning list, tears trickling down his face. He sniffed in embarrassment, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"God, this year sucked."

"I believe that might be exactly the right term for it."

"You do this every year?"

"During culling years, the ceremony can take hours."

He sat heavily on her bed and dropped his head in his palms. "How do you do this?"

Joining him, Teyla laid a hand on his arm. "One day at a time. Losing someone we care for is never easy. Losing so many…." She pushed away the image of an empty village. "We honor them by continuing in their stead, upholding the things they held dear, refusing to give up. We live."

McKay straightened but continued to stare at his hands. "Never give up; never surrender?"

"Has Col. Sheppard made you watch that movie again?"

The side of Rodney's face creased with a small smile. "Wait until next time. I removed the encryption and rewrote the DVD with _2001: A Space Odyssey_."

"Please be sure I am off-world when that happens."

"Thanks for letting me be a part of this, Teyla."

"You are welcome." Standing, she cleared the table of the implements. McKay helped her to move it back to its normal place along the wall. "Do you make resolutions like the others?"

Rodney froze at the question.

"I apologize. I did not mean to offend you."

"You didn't. I made the same resolution that I've made every year since we've been here." He picked up the tea set, keeping his back to her. "To not kill here anyone this year. I haven't kept it so far."

"You cannot blame yourself for every death here."

"I don't. But I am responsible for some of them." He turned to face her, looking more weary than she had ever seen him. "What about you? Did you make a resolution?"

"Several, in fact. One is to find my people."

"That's a good one."

"When I cleaned out Elizabeth's office, I found a small carving in her desk. It said 'God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.' That is also my resolution for this year. Perhaps you would like to adopt it as well?"

McKay stared at her for a long moment, emotions flickering across his face. Nodding, he carried the tray to the door, pausing as it slid open.

"Happy New Year, Teyla."

"Happy New Year, Rodney."

The End.

_A/N: Written for the 'Tis the Season challenge on shepsatlantis LJ community. Prompt: a holiday cultural exchange between MW and Pegasus galaxies._


	13. Adverse Reaction

_A/N: Tag to Irresistible. Spoilers for that ep._

**Adverse Reaction**

Sheppard left his P-90 with the armory officer and hurried to his room, wanting to drop off his tac vest before going to clean McKay's quarters. Tossing the vest on the bed, he was almost out the door when the bottle caught his eye. He hesitated, feeling perfectly fine, but he knew Carson would have kittens if he failed to finish taking all of his medication. Again. He should've taken the last pill three days ago, but they'd been shorthanded due to everyone recovering from Lucius' Pheromone from Hell, and he'd been so busy that he simply forgot.

Dry-swallowing the tablet, John hustled down the corridor, winding through crew quarters until he came to McKay's door. He activated the chime out of politeness, not expecting an answer. Overriding the lock and stepping inside, his eyes widened at the clutter – bed unmade, the floor covered in discarded uniform pieces, towels piled in one corner and bits of Ancient tech strewn everywhere. Sheppard rolled up his sleeves and got started.

Thirty minutes later, the clutter was organized and the laundry had been sorted into the appropriate hampers. John found cleaning supplies under the bathroom sink and had just begun scrubbing the tub when his earpiece chirped.

"_Beckett to Sheppard_."

"This is Sheppard."

"_Can you come to the infirmary, please? You're the only person who hasn't received the serum yet_."

"Can it wait? I'm a little busy right now."

"_No, Colonel, it can't wait. This won't take long_."

John heaved a sigh. "Fine. I'll be right there."

After quickly rinsing his hands, the pilot rushed down the hall to the transporter. When he reached the medical floor, he searched frantically for Carson, finally locating him in a storage closet.

"OK, Doc, here I am. Let's get a move on. I've got stuff to do."

Beckett rolled his eyes. "Just one minute, Colonel. Have a seat on the bed. I'll be right there."

Sheppard perched on the gurney, legs swinging impatiently. The physician emerged from the small room, vial and syringe in hand. The injection was quick and painless, but before John could hop down, Carson placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't you wait here for a couple of minutes?"

"Is there a problem?"

"Nooooo…. I would just like to be sure the serum is effective."

"How will you be able to tell?"

Carson's face was a fascinating mixture of anger and embarrassment. "Trust me, son. We'll both know."

The minutes ticked by slowly, and John grew more agitated as each one passed. "Come on, Doc," he whined. "Can I go yet?"

Beckett checked his watch. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Of course, I felt fine when I came in."

"No sudden urges to, I don't know, kill Rodney?"

Sheppard's face wrinkled in confusion. "Why would I do that?"

"Maybe you should stay a little longer."

"Carson-"

"Dr. Beckett!" Dr. Watson stumbled in, supporting a violently puking Dr. Hewston. "Help!"

"What now?" the physician muttered, hurrying to the two scientists.

Once Carson's back was turned, John slipped off the bed and out of the infirmary. As he reached the transporter he heard his name whispered. Cringing, he pivoted slowly, expecting an outraged Scot but finding an empty hallway instead. He laughed at his overactive imagination and tapped the screen to return to crew quarters.

When he stepped into the corridor, the whisper of his name came again. His hand reached stealthily for the gun strapped to his thigh, his palm settling on the familiar grip as he thoroughly searched the area around him. Feeling foolish when he found nothing, he continued onward, his skin crawling at the sensation of being watched.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

A delicate laugh and the calling of his name again transfixed him, its singsong tone hypnotic, intoxicating. A pleasant buzz silenced the warning in his mind and grew in intensity, rapidly overwhelming everything as it engulfed his senses and raced through his veins. He shuddered under the onslaught and leaned heavily against a wall, trying to remember where he was going.

Pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes, he shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. "Oh, yeah. My buddy Rodney's quarters." His voice sounded warped, strange to his own ears.

_McKay isn't your buddy. He hates you. He hates everyone._

"That's not true," John argued as he tried to locate the source. "He doesn't hate anyone. OK, maybe Kavanaugh, but everyone hated him."

_It is true. He hates you most of all. He's jealous of you, feels threatened by you. He wants Atlantis all to himself, and he'll stop at nothing to get it, including killing you and your real friends._

The lack of a physical presence didn't make the voice any less real to Sheppard's confused brain. "Rodney? He'd never kill anyone."

_Are you so sure? What about Gaul?_

"Gaul shot himself."

_So says McKay. He was young and smart and a…._

"Threat?"

_Yes. You only have McKay's word that Gaul pulled the trigger. And then there's Peter Grodin._

"He died when the satellite was destroyed."

_After he was stranded there. Wasn't Rodney the one repairing the controls?_

"Yes, but-" Each of John's answers was more hesitant than the last, the seductive voice further muddling his mind while the buzz continued to increase, flooding his system with a pleasure that bordered on pain.

_What about Collins?  
_

"The Dorandan weapon, um, it, uh, malfunctioned."

_Hmmmm…. Perhaps. Conveniently after McKay ordered him in there. And Lindstrom?_

"A Wraith v-v-virus opened the airlock."

_Or McKay did and blamed it on the virus. He also said Griffin locked himself in the front of that submerged jumper before the windshield shattered, but you know one of the controls for the bulkhead doors is in the rear compartment._

The voice mesmerized him, caressed him, controlled him. He shivered in the middle of the hallway as the pleasure/pain ratcheted up until his entire body thrummed with it. And suddenly everything became clear.

"Oh my God."

_You know what you have to do._

Eyes hardening, Sheppard pulled his Glock and switched the safety off. "Yes."

OoOoOoOoO

McKay had destroyed the remainder of Lucius' drug under the watchful eye of Ronon. Afterward, the scientist had stomped to his lab in a huff, grousing about the missing sense of humor in certain expedition leaders and their staff. He dug through his Do-Not-Touch-on-Pain-of-Death pile until he located his drained personal shield. Even after two years of research and tinkering, he'd never found a way to recharge it, but he didn't let that stop him from trying. However, he was currently too distracted to concentrate; something about the open look on Sheppard's face as he had left Weir's office bothered Rodney.

He had simply wanted to give the cocky pilot a taste of his own medicine – to turn the tables on the teasing – but what he hadn't expected was the friendly trust in his team leader's eyes. McKay had worked hard to regain that trust after Doranda and had promised himself he wouldn't let something like that happen again. The impact of his actions suddenly hit home.

"Oh, I am so screwed," he muttered to himself as he pushed away from his worktable. "What the hell was I thinking?"

Backtracking, the physicist retrieved his computer, holding it as a shield as he headed toward his quarters. Halfway there, his brain caught up with him. Knowing how pissed Sheppard would be, he decided that he should wait a few days to give the man time to cool down. Rodney changed direction in mid-step and made his way to the jumper bay instead. Several of the small ships were scheduled for diagnostic checks in the near future, and he picked one at random.

After completing the first series of tests on the guidance system, McKay called up the schematics for the next set. He was up to his waist under the co-pilot station when the echo of footsteps reached him. Crawling from underneath the console, he glanced through the windshield and spotted Sheppard pacing agitatedly in the center of the room, gun drawn and staring at a scanner – the kind Rodney used to locate energy signatures and sub-cu transmitters.

His back was to McKay, and an instinct that Rodney didn't question kicked in. Carefully laying a hand on the pilot's controls, he powered up the jumper and engaged the cloak.

Sheppard whirled at the hum of the engine. "McKay! I know you're here."

The man looked like a raving lunatic – wild-eyed, twitching as if ants were crawling on him, a mask of pain covering his face as he swatted with his gun at something only he could see. Snarling epithets, the soldier hurled the scanner across the room. Rodney slid quickly into the pilot's chair and activated his comm.

"Beckett, this is McKay," he whispered.

"_What is it, Rodney?_"

"Did you give Sheppard the serum?"

"_Aye, about half an hour ago. Why are you whispering?_"

"Because he's storming around the jumper bay waving a gun."

The silence on the other end was deafening.

"Carson?"

"_Is this your way of trying to get out of apologizing to him?_"

"No! I'm telling you there is something really wrong with him. He looks terrible – pale and sweaty with big red blotches all over his face, and he's either talking to himself or his imaginary friend. And did I mention he's got a gun?"

"_He always has a gun_."

"In his hand, Carson."

"_You're in the jumper bay?_"

"Yes, still here."

"_I'll be right there_."

The radio went silent. Rodney leaned forward, tracking Sheppard's progress as he disappeared around the side of another jumper and emerged in the middle of the bay.

"I know what you did to the others, McKay, and I'm not going to let you do it to me. You can't hide forever. I will find you."

The military commander took several steps forward and bumped into the cloaked ship. Grinning maniacally, he backed up and traced his hand across the nose of the craft before turning down the side. Rodney raced to the back and yanked the lever to close the hatch, hearing Sheppard's roar of frustration as it shut.

"You can't get away from me, you little weasel. I'm going to make you pay for what you've done."

Bullets began bouncing off the metal hull, getting successively closer to the front. McKay stared wide-eyed as Sheppard came into view and aimed at the windshield.

"Gotcha."

OoOoOoOoO

Doing laundry ranked almost as high on Ronon's most-hated list as listening to Rodney explain… just about anything. He had avoided it as long as he could, but Teyla had told him in no uncertain terms that today must be his wash day. After moving his clothing to the dryer, he had propped his feet on another chair and had pulled out his favorite knife and whet stone when his radio sprang to life.

"_Ronon!_"

"What is it, McKay?"

"_I need help! Sheppard's trying to kill me_."

The Satedan chuckled. "You deserve it."

"_I'm serious! I'm in the jumper bay. Please!_"

Dex sat up straight at the desperation in Rodney's tone. The little man was excitable, occasionally prone to exaggeration, but not a liar. Putting his knife and stone away, he headed out. "What happened?"

"_I don't know. He's sick or something. Beckett's on his way_."

"I'm coming."

"_Hurry! And be careful. He's got-_"

Ronon heard gunfire and shattering glass just before the comm went dead. He started running.

OoOoOoOoO

The colors swirled around John, stinging him and darting away. Pain surrounded him, ripped at him, shredded him. The voice demanded he finish McKay, screaming so loudly tears sprang to his eyes. Dropping the gun, he clapped his hands over his ears, but the shouts came from inside him. He slammed his head against the invisible ship, relieved when the force of the blow blanked out the incessant demands momentarily. Sliding his fingertips over the concealed craft, he located a handhold and pulled himself onto the nose. Broken glass crunched under his boots and a piece sliced his palm when he found the shattered windshield.

He shoved his hand inside and grasped the console, yanking his head through the cloak and the glass. Rodney was hunched between the rear benches, one quaking hand holding a spare Glock while the other dabbed at the lacerations covering his face and neck. The voice screeched at John, and he lost his grip, fumbling at his ears as he slid headfirst into the pilot's chair. He staggered to his feet, desperate to obey the voice, and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun as McKay stood and backed away slowly.

"D-d-don't make me do this. Please." The scientist reached hesitantly for the hatch lever.

Rodney's words barely penetrated the buzzing and screaming in his head. "Are you going to kill me too? Like you did the others?"

"What others?" McKay's hand shook as he continued to point the 9mil while the ramp slowly lowered.

"I'll never let you take Atlantis."

"What are you talking about?"

John ducked as the colors swooped around him. He'd dropped his gun somewhere, but he knew he could take the other man without it. "I won't let you hurt anyone else!"

"You're sick, Sheppard. Carson is on his way; just calm down. I don't know what you think I've done, but we'll get it sorted out. If this is about Lucius-"

"Shut up!" the pilot screamed at the voice. "I'll do what you want, but I can't think with all the noise."

Squeezing his lids shut against the rainbow vortex, he tried to cram his hands in his ears. He opened his eyes in enough time to see Rodney's back as he leapt from the jumper. Howling in rage, John ran after him, turning the corner too fast to avoid the bolt of red that impacted his chest. Then the world went black.

OoOoOoOoO

Sheppard dropped like a rock. Ronon holstered his blaster and turned to McKay. "You OK?"

The gun slid from Rodney's hand as he stared at the Satedan. "N-n-n-no." Leaning against the jumper, the physicist wiped the blood from his face. "He was really going to kill me." The man's eyes rounded as he looked past Dex. "Oh no."

Ronon whirled, three large strides bringing him to his leader's side as he reached for his earpiece.

"Beckett! Where are you?"

"_Almost to the jumper bay_." The doctor panted as if he were running.

"Hurry. Sheppard's having convulsions."

The doors slid open, and pounding boots announced the medical team. Carson dropped to his knees, shouting orders in terminology Ronon didn't understand. He moved aside to allow the medics to work and found McKay sitting on the ground, legs pulled to his chest with his head resting on his knees. Dex crouched next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Is he dead?" Rodney whispered. "Oh, God, I killed him, didn't I?"

"Doesn't look dead though he might wish he was when Beckett gets finished."

"This is my fault. How could I be so stupid?"

Ronon stretched his legs out and leaned back against the jumper. "I'm no doctor, but none of the rest of us reacted like this. Maybe this happened because of something else."

"Oh, please. You think the dust mites in my quarters caused him to go nuts?"

"I think that I've seen a lot of strange stuff since I've been here. It wasn't that long ago that his body was taken over by that pod guy. You don't know what happened after he left the gateroom."

McKay's head rolled to the side, and he squinted at the former runner. "Do you really think it could be something else, or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

Dex snorted. "Since when do I do something to make you feel better?"

"Good point. I guess I hadn't…."

Rodney's eyes shifted as he trailed off, and Ronon followed his gaze. Carson had loaded John onto a gurney, and the medical team was hurrying to the doors. The Satedan got to his feet and pulled McKay up.

"Time to go."

OoOoOoOoO

By the time Rodney reached the infirmary, Sheppard was surrounded by doctors, techs, and monitors. The convulsions had stopped, and a privacy curtain was pulled as a nurse began removing the colonel's uniform.

"Dr. McKay?"

He dragged his gaze away to focus on the fresh-faced med tech in front of him and blinked blankly at him.

"I need to clean the cuts on your face." He held gauze and antiseptic in his hands. "Is that all right?"

Rodney nodded mutely, occasionally wincing as the ointment encountered an open wound. Pausing, the tech peered closely at him before exchanging the medicine for tweezers.

"Hold still, Doctor. You still have some glass embedded here."

With a few quick motions, he efficiently removed the offending material and finished cleaning the lacerations. McKay barely noticed when the medic added a couple of band-aids and walked away. The scientist felt like he was in an unending nightmare with a fog that kept him separate from reality.

"What happened?"

Turning toward the vaguely familiar voice, he found Elizabeth waiting for an answer, Teyla at her side. He stared at them, for once at a loss for words. Weir's eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward, lightly touching his knee.

"Rodney?"

"He said Sheppard was trying to kill him," Ronon rumbled from behind him. "He was chasing McKay when I got there."

Disbelief radiated from the expedition leader. Rodney wanted to explain, to give all the details, to beg for forgiveness, but he had suddenly lost the ability to speak. Elizabeth's expression softened as she took in the cuts on his face and the blood on his jacket.

A loud crash from behind the curtain made them all jump. Medical instruments spilled everywhere, and one of the techs landed hard, skidding across the floor. Carson shouted for restraints as a guttural roar echoed through the room. The sound of thrashing and grunts of pain seemed to galvanize Ronon, and the Satedan jerked the curtain back. Three techs were trying to hold Sheppard as Beckett strapped on the cuffs, but the pilot was fighting tooth and nail. Face flushed, the colonel was drenched in sweat and screaming incoherently.

Dex grasped John's shoulders, pinning him as the man bucked violently. "McKay! Get over here."

Rodney gawked for a second before Teyla grabbed him by the arm and pulled him with her. They each held down a leg as Carson finally got the straps buckled. Sheppard continued to twist and squirm, his glassy eyes unfocused as he shouted and snarled at things unseen. Beckett led the group a few steps away.

"Is there anything you can do for him?" Weir asked.

"I'm afraid not," the doctor responded. "I need to know what caused this first. Is there anything any of you can tell me?"

One by one they shook their heads.

"He seemed fine during the mission," Teyla offered.

"And nothing unusual happened?"

"No," Ronon answered. "We stayed together the entire time. Didn't eat or drink anything."

"Rodney?"

The physicist started guiltily as all eyes turned to him. "What?"

"Do you have anything to add?" Beckett prodded.

"You already know that I sampled a bit of Lucius' drug knowing Sheppard hadn't had the serum yet, but I swear to God, Carson, I didn't give him any. He was fine when he left the gateroom, but he was like this when he showed up in the jumper bay."

Sheppard's screams were getting quieter as his voice grew hoarse and his body tired.

"He appeared in good health when I gave him the serum so whatever caused this must have happened in the last thirty minutes. We're running every test we can. I'll let you know when I have something."

Elizabeth gave a short nod. "Call me as soon as you know. I'll be in my office."

McKay slumped in a chair, head in his hands, and Beckett lay a hand on his shoulder.

"There's nothing you can do here, son."

"I'm not leaving."

"We would also like to stay if that is all right." Teyla's soothing tones weren't quite enough to mask the weak struggle coming from the corner of the infirmary. She and Ronon drew up chairs next to Rodney when the Scot relented.

"You may stay for now. I reserve the right to reverse that decision if the situation warrants it."

The teammates could only watch as their leader's strength and voice finally gave out and his eyes slowly slid shut.

XXX

McKay jumped when a hand landed on his arm.

"Rodney, wake up. Dr. Beckett is returning."

Opening his eyes, he blinked woozily at Teyla. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Just over two hours."

He had a crick in his neck, and his back might not ever forgive him for sleeping in that chair. Standing, he stretched until his spine popped and glanced around the infirmary. Other than Ronon and an unconscious Sheppard, no one else was around.

"I thought you said Carson was here."

"He and Dr. Weir are on their way. He has news."

McKay followed Teyla as she joined Ronon at the foot of John's bed. Fine muscle tremors ran the length of the pilot, and his eyes moved rapidly beneath his lids. The splotches on his face were fading, but a glaze of sweat covered his translucent skin, and his breaths came in gasps interspersed with moan and whimpers.

Turning when Beckett entered with Elizabeth, Rodney demanded, "Well?"

"I believe Col. Sheppard is suffering from inadvertent drug poisoning. Something in the cold medication I prescribed for him is reacting with the serum."

Weir pursed her lips as her gaze dropped to the sick man. "Can you help him?"

"Not yet. His heart rate is dangerously high, and his brain chemistry is off the charts. I won't give him any more drugs until these have left his system. I can't risk making him worse."

Ronon folded his arms across his chest. "And if he doesn't get better?"

"I have my best people on it. I even borrowed a couple of Rodney's chemists to analyze the reaction. We should know more in a few hours." Carson sighed, fingertips massaging a temple. "All we can do is wait for now. I know you are concerned, but I need you to take care of yourselves. Eat and get some rest. I don't want to see any of you here before six tomorrow morning."

McKay stayed rooted to the spot as Beckett ushered the others to the door.

"You, too, Rodney."

He shook his head vehemently. "I'm not going."

"Stop being so stubborn. There's nothing you can do to help here. I don't need you getting sick too."

Swallowing hard, McKay turned to face the doctor. "This is my fault. We both know if I hadn't taken that damn drug you wouldn't have needed to give him that serum, and none of this would have happened. If he dies-"

"He's not going to die."

"You don't know that," Rodney hissed. He looked away, jaw clenched, as he gathered himself. "I'm not going to get much sleep anyway. I might as well stay here."

Beckett stared at him for a long moment. "All right, but I don't want to hear about you abusing my staff."

"I never abuse your staff."

"Rodney…."

"Fine. No voodoo staff abuse. Got it."

After Carson left, McKay pulled his chair next to Sheppard's bed and took a seat. His eyes fastened on the man's right wrist as it twitched and jerked against the restraint.

"Please don't die."

XXX

McKay woke to the off-key humming of the night nurse. A glance at his watched confirmed the ungodly hour of two a.m. He straightened and scrubbed a hand over his face.

"How is he?"

The nurse finished annotating the chart before answering. "His blood pressure is high, and he's running a fever, but his body's stress levels have dropped, and he's finally sleeping which is what you should be doing."

Trying to not faint with relief, the acerbic scientist rolled his eyes. "I don't recall asking for your opinion."

She smiled tolerantly. "You didn't have to. We dispense advice freely here. And the body's need for sleep is a fact, not an opinion." Firm hands steered him to the bed behind him. "The linens are fresh, and there is a sandwich on the tray since you haven't eaten in hours."

Rodney climbed on the bed and kicked off his shoes. "What are you, some kind of stalker?" Grabbing the sandwich, he took a big bite and lay down.

"No need. You spend so much time here we've all learned your routine." She pulled the sheet over him and dimmed the lights. "Good night, Dr. McKay."

After inhaling the sandwich, he got as comfortable as he was going to get and had barely closed his eyes when he heard a low moan. The minimal illumination was just enough to reveal John's wrist weakly struggling against the restraint again. A whispered plea for help drew Rodney from his bed, and he stumbled the short distance to Sheppard's side, waving the lights up as he went.

Pained hazel eyes met his as the man yanked feebly at the strap holding his arm.

"Why?" he mouthed.

Panic filled McKay, and he stepped backwards. "I- I- I should get Carson."

"Tell me." The rasp sounded agonizing.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Sheppard's forehead wrinkled. "Beckett… a shot?"

"Nothing else after that?"

The colonel shook his head, his gaze focusing on Rodney's face. "You OK?"

"Me? I'm fine. Why- Oh." Gesturing at the cuts and scrapes, McKay shrugged. "I messed up an experiment and forgot to duck. Just a little glass." At the unconvinced look he received, Rodney reverted back to his tried and true method. "I've probably already got gangrene or something. Zelenka owes me dessert for a month, and two other morons are scrubbing the east pier with their toothbrushes as we speak. I mean, honestly, flying glass. I faced down the Wraith to be attacked by flying glass. This galaxy hates me."

A corner of Sheppard's mouth quirked upward but disappeared after a brief tug on the restraints. "And these?"

"You were convulsing, and they didn't want you to injure yourself. You had a bad reaction to that shot Carson gave you. "

"Did I hurt anyone?" The whisper was so faint McKay had to strain to hear it.

He looked his friend straight in the eye. "No."

The pilot stopped struggling, and his lids slid shut. "Good."

Rodney waited until Sheppard's breathing evened out into sleep before making his way to Beckett's office. The doctor was snoring with his head on his desk. McKay tapped his shoulder gently.

"Carson?"

The Scot jerked awake. "What's wrong?"

"He woke up."

"And you didn't call me?" Beckett asked as he leapt from his chair.

McKay blocked his way. "He doesn't remember anything after you gave him the serum. He wanted to know why he was restrained, and I told him it was for the convulsions."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Don't tell him what happened in the jumper bay."

"Rodney, if we don't tell him, and he finds out later-"

"He won't. You make sure your staff doesn't say anything, and I'll take care of Ronon, Teyla and Elizabeth."

"Are you sure about this?"

"What good would it do to tell him?"

"None. I'm just surprised you thought of it."

"What's that supposed to mean? I am a genius, you know."

"Aye, you have reminded me of that on several occasions. However, it doesn't usually apply to your interpersonal skills."

"Are you saying I'm bad with people?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well, it helps having Teyla around. She kicks me when I say something stupid."

"So that's why you limp so much."

"Har-har. Your rapier wit is overwhelming. Would you like to go check on your patient now, Dr. Smartass?"

"Pot, kettle and all that. And I would love to check on Col. Sheppard. As soon as you move out of the way."

McKay scooted aside and followed Carson to the main room. The physician took a quick set of vitals and studied the monitors carefully.

"Blood pressure and fever are beginning to drop. Heart, lung and brain activity are normal. I need to check his latest blood work, but I think he's turned a corner."

"Can you take the restraints off?"

Beckett hesitated. "He was lucid when you spoke to him?"

"As lucid as Sheppard ever is. He asked how I was."

"That sounds like our colonel." The doctor undid the cuffs and straightened the blanket before arching a brow at Rodney. "Now, back to bed with you. Don't make me regret letting you stay."

"Yes, Dad." Crawling back in his bed, the scientist had one last question. "Will you make sure I talk to Ronon and Teyla before they talk to him?"

"You have my word. Go to sleep."

McKay's lids slid shut as Carson lowered the lights to night-cycle brightness. He was asleep in minutes.

OoOoOoOoO

John startled awake with a gasp. The nightmare had seemed so real – swirling colors, screaming, Rodney with a gun. Squinting at his surroundings, he recognized the infirmary although the snoring was a little out of place. A glance to his right revealed McKay sleeping in the next bed. A memory surfaced, and he jerked his arm, surprised when it rose freely from his side. At first he thought the restraints had been a dream too until he noticed the ligature marks on his wrists.

"How are you feeling, son?"

Beckett sat in a chair next to his bed, chart in hand.

"What happened?"

"You had a reaction to the shot I gave you, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Rodney told me. Is he OK?" He tried to clear his throat and ended up coughing.

"He's fine. Water?"

A short nod had the physician lifting the back of his head so he could sip from a straw.

"Better?"

"Mmmm…. Thanks." He could feel exhaustion pulling at him again. "McKay's a bad liar, Doc. What really happened?"

Carson smiled down at him. "You really had an adverse reaction to a mixture of drugs. When did you take the last of your prescription?"

"What prescription?"

"For your cold."

"Oh." John concentrated, but the memories were so murky – there was a man and a drug and a mission…. He had a vague recollection of a cold. "I- I don't remember."

"Don't worry about it. You're going to be fine, a little tired while your body recovers, but good as new in no time."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Trust me, lad. There's nothing more to tell. You need to rest now. We'll see about getting some food in you next time you wake up."

"OK, Doc. Thanks."

Closing his eyes, he fell asleep immediately.

XXX

When he next awoke, his team was gathered nearby, conversing in whispers.

"Hey guys."

Teyla's bright smile lit the room as she reached the side of his bed and took his hand. "It is good to see you awake, John. How do you feel?"

"Like I did when I left Vegas the last time I was there."

Dex grinned. "I've heard stories about that place. Sounds like Clestia."

The Athosian's brows disappeared under her bangs. "You feel that bad? Should I get Dr. Beckett?"

John made a mental note to question Ronon later. "No. I'm just really tired."

"Then we should allow you to rest."

"Actually, I'm starving. Can you find something for me to eat?"

"Of course."

"Why don't all three of you go?" Carson asked as he entered. "Get some for yourselves while you're at it. I should be done with my exam by the time you return."

They headed out as the physician drew more blood and checked vitals. "If you continue to improve at this rate, I'll release you to your quarters tomorrow."

"That's good news, Doc."

The doors swished closed behind Weir. "Did I hear something about good news?"

She took a seat next to his bed while Beckett gave her an update and left to give them time to chat before the team returned. John asked about the gap in his memory, but she confirmed the story Rodney and Carson had told him.

Over the course of the day, he asked Ronon and Teyla the same questions – some subtle, some pointed – but their recounting was almost word for word what the others had said, too precise to be anything but a rehearsed version. After his team left for the evening, he pondered the looks of guilt and concern he'd seen on their faces, especially McKay's. Sheppard knew he wasn't being told the whole truth and considered hacking into the security system even though Rodney would have already sanitized it. There were a few files that not even McKay knew about.

They were trying to protect him from something, and he was surprised to find himself oddly touched rather than angry. His people were safe; Atlantis was safe; and he was recovering quickly from whatever had actually happened. He trusted these people more than he'd trusted anybody in his life, willingly leaving his life in their hands on a daily basis, but this time he chose to take it a step further. He had to trust that they were right to keep the full truth from him, that he was better off not knowing. This time.

John made a conscious decision to let it go and settled into the bed as a burden he didn't realize he'd been carrying lifted. Feeling safer than he had in a long time, he closed his eyes and let sleep find him.

* * *

_Written for kriadydragon (stealth dragon) who wanted Sheppard having a negative reaction to the serum making him sick or insane._


	14. The Lies We Tell

_A/N: Episode tag for Quarantine. Massive S4 spoilers._

**The Lies We Tell**

"Where _is_ McKay?" Sam asked. "After we got all the systems up and running he vanished from the control room. I expected to find him here."

John was suddenly enraptured with the leftovers on his plate. "Haven't seen him lately."

"Nor have I." Radek was still glowing from Carter's earlier praise.

"I released him from the infirmary about twenty minutes ago," Keller offered. "I thought he'd be here too."

"I have not seen Dr. McKay since we passed as he left his lab earlier. He said he did not have time to talk. He was on his way…" Teyla trailed off as Sheppard cleared his throat. "…elsewhere." She arched a brow at him.

Ronon grunted. "No idea."

Sam's gaze settled on John, and he tried to not squirm under it. "I see."

John could tell she didn't buy his the lie; he was definitely losing his touch. He had seen Rodney briefly as the physicist had barreled past him on the way to the control room. The scientists had spent hours combing through the quarantine code to isolate the glaring errors – like broadcasting an alert beacon – while the techs painstakingly ran diagnostics on all primary and secondary systems. But one glance was all it took for Sheppard to know that the time with Katie in the botany lab had not gone well.

Standing, he retrieved his tray. "I need to check on a few things."

Teyla smiled. "Like the windows you broke?"

"And the doors you blew apart?" Sam added.

"You got to blew up some doors?" Ronon asked. "I tried to blast out of the infirmary, but it didn't work."

Sheppard smirked at him. "Next time, keep your gun with you."

"I think we need to hide some C4 in the infirmary."

Jennifer scoffed. "No way. Not the armory, remember?"

"We could have used it though. How can you not keep any weapons in there?"

"In-firm-a-ry."

John chuckled at the continued bickering as dumped his tray and headed to the transporter. He'd seen the expression on his Satedan teammate's face when the pretty lady doctor had approached. Maybe Ronon was finally ready. Speaking of being ready….

He had been shocked when McKay had shown him the engagement ring earlier. He had known the Canadian had been dating Dr. Brown for a while though he didn't mention her often. Chalking it up to a need for privacy, Sheppard hadn't pushed for details; in retrospect however, perhaps he should have. They had all been running on fumes for quite a while, but especially Rodney. So many blows in such a short time, too many for someone who had little experience dealing with loss. Carson's death, activating Weir's nanites then leaving her behind, almost being killed by that damn crystal entity, offering himself to save Jeannie, discovering Elizabeth was really dead, seconds away from being fed on by a Wraith queen…. And that didn't include the crushing pressure of continually trying to save Atlantis. John had wondered briefly if marrying Katie was simply a stab at a bit of normalcy in the midst of the chaos, but instead of questioning the decision, he had encouraged it, even though he had heard the uncertainty in the man's voice.

Rounding the corner to the lab, he discovered two of the facility staff repairing the window. "Have you seen Dr. McKay, George?" he asked.

The older man shook his head. "Not for some time, Colonel. Sorry."

Sheppard searched all of the physicist's normal haunts but came up empty, and a call on the radio went unanswered. Surrendering to the inevitable, he used a local workstation to locate Rodney's sub-cu transmitter. The sensor displayed a flashing dot on the northern pier – the place the scientist went to hide. He'd spent a lot of time there after Carson died and again when Elizabeth was lost. John stared at the indicator for a moment before retreating to his quarters. He wouldn't force McKay to tell him; the man would talk when he was ready.

Only he never did. Several days passed as Rodney continued his disappearing act. He rarely left his lab, immersing himself in work. With the exception of occasional staff meetings, neither Ronon nor Teyla had seen him since the lockdown. The kitchen staff reported someone raiding their stores at odd hours, and Keller said, in an amazed tone, that he hadn't been to the infirmary once. Radek was haggard, and Carter looked worried. Sheppard sat in her office as she leaned back in her chair, eyeing him speculatively.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"I'm not exactly sure. I think it's a personal issue."

"You think? He's a member of your team. Are you telling me you haven't spoken to him in a week?"

He sighed. "I've been trying to give him some space, allow him to talk when he's ready."

"You have a mission tomorrow. You've already benched one member of your team, and I'm not going to let you and Ronon go exploring by yourselves. Will he be ready to go, or do you need to find a replacement?"

"A replacement? For Rodney?" John stared at Sam, letting the ire blaze enough for her to see.

"Temporarily," she appeased. "Until he's ready. The Wraith are an unencumbered threat again. You need to get back out there."

Dropping his head, he nodded. She was right. They had already handed off two missions, minor trips that could be handled easily by another team. But the next one wasn't. "He'll be in the gateroom on time tomorrow." He thought for a moment. "Can you pull us from today's duty roster?"

"Done." Carter steepled her hands. "I know things have been rough for him, for all of you. If whatever is bothering him…. If he needs more time…."

"If he isn't one hundred percent, I'll bench him too."

Sheppard hated the thought of fracturing his team more than it was already, but he wouldn't take chances with their lives. He left Sam's office and stopped in the control room to locate McKay. The lab.

After grabbing a few items from his quarters, the pilot made his way to the science section and through the lab doors. He spotted a lone figure at a worktable, fingers flying over his keyboard, with his shoulders hunched all the way to his ears and both knees bouncing. Sheppard paused in the doorway at the sight of the frenetic scientist. McKay was many things – sarcastic, arrogant, egotistical, brave, socially inept, dependable, loyal – but he was never still.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" Definitely sarcastic.

"Maybe." John pushed away from the door and ambled next to Rodney. "Whatcha doin'?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Typing."

"Ah, there's that Mensa intelligence at work."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No." The scientist's eyes never wavered from the monitor.

Sheppard leaned his elbows on the table and sneaked a glance at McKay. The man looked like hell – unshaven, wrinkled uniform, dark smudges under bloodshot eyes. "I think I owe you a beer."

Rodney's hands paused for a second, trembling then clenching into fists before continuing. "Not now."

"When was the last time you had more than a PowerBar and a gallon of coffee?"

"I said not now," McKay growled between gritted teeth.

This was worse than John had thought. Squeezing the man's shoulder, he said with gentle firmness, "Now, Rodney."

The air around the physicist hummed with tension, and for a moment John thought McKay would fight him on it. Instead, he slumped bonelessly forward, his chin drooping to his chest as he rubbed his temples with the heels of his palms.

"I really screwed up this time." The quiet comment was laced with pain.

"With Katie?"

"Yeah."

"Come on. Let's get some food into you."

Sheppard led the way to the mess hall, and Rodney followed silently, gazing blindly at the floor. To be honest, that freaked John out more than anything else had. He tucked a few sandwiches, some chips, two bottles of water, and the left-over chocolate chip cookies in the bag he'd brought and steered McKay away from a table and out the doors.

"Thought we were going to eat," the scientist muttered.

"We are, just not here."

Heading to the transporter, John pressed the location he wanted on the map. When the doors slid open, Rodney hesitated for a moment before stepping out onto the northern pier. They walked to the far edge and took a seat, legs dangling over the long drop to the ocean. Sheppard handed McKay half of the food and a bottle of Evian then unwrapped his own turkey sandwich. They ate in silence, the crash of the waves and a gentle mid-afternoon breeze making for a pleasant backdrop.

Ever so slightly, the stress lines around Rodney's eyes began to ease. John reached into the bag and pulled out a couple of beers, offering one to McKay. Twisting off the top, the scientist guzzled half the bottle and made a face.

"Lite beer? Are you serious?"

Sheppard shot him a wry grin. "I'm not twenty-five anymore."

That got a snort out of Rodney. "You're not twelve either, but that hasn't stopped you from acting like it."

"Oh, yes, and you're the model of maturity, McKay."

The Canadian flinched at the comment and turned to stare at the water. "Yeah."

"What happened?"

The tension crept back into Rodney's features before they hardened into self-loathing. He sucked down the rest of the beer. "What else do you have in there?"

John smiled and pulled out the mostly full fifth of Jack Daniels and a couple of cups.

McKay raised a brow. "On duty?"

"Nope," the pilot answered as he poured them both a shot. "Carter gave us the rest of the day off." He handed one to Rodney and took a sip of his own.

McKay stared into the brown liquid, swirling the cup and seeming to lose himself in it. Then, tossing back the drink, he downed it in one gulp and poured another.

"Easy there. It would be embarrassing for Ronon to have to carry you back."

"Don't care," Rodney mumbled as he finished the drink and refilled the cup.

Taking the whiskey, Sheppard added a splash to his mug and capped the bottle. "Tell me what happened."

A mutinous expression crossed the scientist's face but was quickly replaced by a sadness that surprised John. And suddenly the story came spilling out – the lockdown, the lack of communication, the hypochondria, the fatalism, the final goodbye.

"Are you sure? Maybe after a few days-"

"I'm sure," McKay retorted bitterly. "She was just telling me what I wanted to hear. I didn't get it until I was out the door. If you'd seen the look on her face, the way she said 'bye'…."

"Have you tried talking to her?"

"Yes. I've asked her to lunch every day since then, but she finds an excuse not to come. The thing is – I know I'm right. I'm not ready. I told myself I was, but I'm not. It was just one more lie, like 'time heals all wounds' and 'words will never hurt me.' Rodney McKay ready for marriage. What a joke. If we'd married I would have made her hate me. You know how I am."

"You'll be ready one day. Besides, it's better to find out now than after a few years of marriage."

"I suppose."

"Trust me, it is."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Right, the voice of experience speaks. Exactly how many times have you been married?"

"Only once."

Jaw dropping, McKay gaped at him. "Really?"

John fished in the bag for the final item. Pulling out the picture, he glanced at it before handing it to his friend. Hard to believe he'd been that young and happy once. Nancy was radiant in her gown as she posed with him in his dress blues. He wasn't sentimental, but he had kept a few photos of his life as reminders.

Rodney blinked in amazement as he handed it back. "I- I don't know what to say."

"It was a long time ago."

"What happened?"

He thought of all the answers he could give, the long list of things gone wrong, but decided to go with the simplest and most accurate. "I wasn't ready." He could see the mental wheels turning as McKay processed the information.

"Love isn't always enough, is it?"

"No," the colonel replied as he put the picture back in the bag.

"I should have waited. Jeannie asked me when I was going to marry Katie, and I couldn't get it out of my head. If I hadn't taken the ring with me, if I'd kept in my pocket, if I hadn't acted like it didn't matter…."

"Berating yourself over something you can't change won't do any good. You can't know what would have happened. If you'd continued dating, she might have gotten tired of waiting for you to pop the question."

"How many women are going to be willing to put up with me? Jeannie said-"

"Rodney, stop focusing on what your sister told you in the middle of being kidnapped. You've already said you know you need to work on your shortcomings. Focus on that."

"It won't bring Katie back."

"Maybe not, but you caught her before you even knew you had shortcomings. Imagine what could happen with the next girl."

McKay contemplated his cup before swallowing the last sip and handing it back to his team leader. "You know, you're right. Fix a couple of things, and I'll have women everywhere adoring me."

"Easy there, Don Juan. One step at a time." John packed away the leftovers and the trash then stood.

The brittleness wasn't quite gone from Rodney's eyes, but it had faded a bit. "Right. What now?"

"Now, you go get some sleep. We have a mission tomorrow."

They headed back to the city as the first of the moons began to rise.

"I don't know why I was paying attention to what Jeannie said. She was obviously under a lot of stress. After all, she thinks you're better looking than I am."

"I never said she didn't have good taste."

"There's another lie, you know: 'it's better to have loved and lost' and all that."

"Yeah, I know."

"Does it get better?"

"Of course."

What was one more lie?

* * *

_Written for the Quarantine ep tag challenge on the shepsatlantis LJ comm._


	15. If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em

_A/N: Episode tag for Harmony. Spoilers for that ep. Warning: fluff to follow._

**If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em**

In retrospect, I should have known something was up during the mission debrief. Carter's tablet pinged as I was detailing our successful handling of the trade relationship with the new queen. The Colonel's lips twitched slightly when she glanced down. Admittedly, not a huge tell, but I still should have known since she has the same intense focus that McKay has when he's solving a problem. Which reminds me, I really need to chat with Teyla. Whatever she's teaching Rodney about negotiator tactics is working because he was the picture of pure innocence the entire meeting. Son of a bitch never even cracked a smile.

The paranoia didn't kick in, though, until we left her office. Chuck refused to meet my eyes, and a few snickers followed us from the control room. I was reminded of that dream where I'm walking naked through Times Square on New Year's Eve. I ran a hand over my face and through my hair then checked my fly, but I couldn't find anything blatantly amiss.

"I need to swing by my quarters before we hit the mess."

McKay didn't blink. "I'll be in my lab."

I spent a good five minutes staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror before inspecting my uniform for tears or rips in unsightly places. Nothing. The quiet voice inside that told me where to shoot and when to duck started babbling about scientists with enormous egos. I hurried from my room and headed straight to Rodney's lab, ignoring a giggle from Keller and a double take from Lorne. I could hear Ronon's guffaws echoing down the corridor when I exited the transporter. Turning the corner, I found my team, my _team_, laughing hysterically. Well, Teyla and Ronon were laughing. McKay looked smug. In fact, he wore exactly the same expression he'd had when Harmony revealed that painting.

"What did you do?"

At least I got the satisfaction of hearing him squeal like a girl.

"Oh, hey, Sheppard. Ready to eat?"

Rodney needed more lessons because lying was still completely beyond him.

"I asked you a question, McKay."

Ronon's shoulders continued to shake, and Teyla developed a sudden fascination with the far wall. Positioning himself strategically behind the two, Rodney crossed his arms and lifted his chin.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

I strolled casually to the worktable and peered over Ronon's shoulder. There, in all its glory, was that hideous painting masquerading as McKay's wallpaper.

"How…. Never mind." Geeks with toys. God, I'm an idiot. He totes that damn video camera everywhere. I don't know how I missed him taping it, the sneaky little bastard.

"Oh, come on. You didn't really think I wouldn't immortalize that moment for all eternity, did you? I mean, seriously, that, that piece of-"

"Crap?"

"-art should be enjoyed by everyone, not just the peasants on that world."

My brows shot up as the full impact of his words hit home. "Everyone? How many people did you send that to?"

Rodney had the decency to look chagrinned as he squeaked, "All of them?"

"All of them. All of them as in all of the science department?"

"More like all of Atlantis." McKay's shoulders hunched up to his ears as he shied away. "And the SGC. And Jeannie." The words tripped over themselves as they rushed out of his mouth.

The look on his face as he squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself was worth the humiliation I would face. Almost. Actually, I thought the painting was freaking hilarious – the obvious imaginings of a hormonal teenager – but I'd die before I'd admit it. I bit the inside of my cheeks to keep from laughing and did my best fierce-Ronon impersonation.

"You are a dead man. And you'll never know where it's coming from. Lemon in your coffee. Bees in your closet. Itching powder in your laundry detergent."

"You wouldn't dare."

I smirked at him. "The Princess Bride taped over every copy of Batman."

"Now, that's just low."

I grunted noncommittally and winked at Teyla when Rodney wasn't looking. She grinned as she stood and smoothed her hands over her belly.

"Can we eat now? I am starving."

Ronon snorted. "You're always starving these days."

She glared at him and swatted his knee. "One day I will return to my sparring form, and I shall remember you said that."

"Can you remember Sheppard said it instead?"

"He has his own list."

List? That's all I needed. "Hey, leave me out of this." I heaved a sigh, ready to get this over with. "Let's go eat."

Lunch was the longest hour of my life, but I survived, and eventually the furor died down, although no matter how many times I threw away a copy of that stupid painting, one magically appeared taped to my locker when I went to the mission ready room. Somehow McKay managed to set it as my wallpaper as well. I can get around on a computer, but I'm no where near Rodney's league. I'll have to wait until the next time he insults Radek to get it fixed.

I thought we'd finally moved on until two weeks later on my off-day when I got back to my room after my morning run with Ronon. I entered my quarters and found a small package in plain brown paper on my bed. Unwrapping it, I wondered when I would stop underestimating McKay. Setting it aside, I stripped, showered, and shaved. After sliding on my favorite pair of jeans, I tugged on my brand new t-shirt, courtesy of Jeannie Miller, and headed to breakfast.

* * *

_Written for the Harmony tag challenge on the shepsatlantis LJ community._


	16. One Last Thing to Take Care Of

_A/N: Episode tag for Outcast. Spoilers for that ep._

**One Last Thing to Take Care Of**

Climbing from the taxi, Sheppard took a deep breath in a futile attempt to settle the rolling emotions that had threatened to overflow since Sam had delivered the news. In the distance a bird chirped, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of flowers as it whispered through the shade trees. He squinted into the sunlight, wishing again for the protection his aviator shades provided. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he made his way across the meticulously manicured grounds, gaze lowered and shoulders hunched.

He paused as he reached the grey stone, confirming his shirt was tucked properly and his jacket buttoned. Straightening his tie, he took the final couple of steps and scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck without realizing it. He smoothed his lapels, reminded himself he was forty not fourteen, and cleared his throat.

"Hi. It's John."

Sweat trickled down his hairline even though the day was cool. Forcing his clenched fists open, he swallowed thickly.

"You know I suck at this, but I guess that's one thing we had in common."

_God, now what to say?_

"I went to see Dave. He's doing well, but I guess you knew that. We talked. Well, we talked about as much as Sheppard men talk, I guess. I gave him an email address in case he needs to get in touch with me. Met his fiancé. She seems nice."

He shuffled nervously, unsure of what to do next. Stepping carefully around the fresh dirt, John moved to the far right side of the marker and knelt.

"Hey, Mom. Sorry I haven't been here for so long. I've been away, really far away. It's an incredible place with the best people." He smiled fondly. "Life is good there. _I'm_ good there. I just wanted you to know that."

He brushed away the dirt that clung to the stone and traced his fingers over the carvings. Marie Sheppard. Beloved Wife and Mother. 1945-1970. Glancing around to make sure he was alone, he leaned forward until his forehead touched her name.

"Learned this from Teyla," he whispered.

Feeling a little silly but not the least bit sorry, he stood and moved back to his original spot.

"Dave told me that you regretted what happened between us. I wish I'd known that, but I didn't make it very easy, did I?" He blew out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry – sorry that I stayed away so long, sorry I didn't take the opportunities I had to patch things up, sorry that it ended this way. You always seemed disappointed in the choices I made, but I hope somehow you know what I've been up to, that maybe you're a little bit proud of me."

He cleared his throat again and bobbed his head. "Anyway, that's what I came to say. I guess I'll go now; the taxi's waiting. So, um, goodbye."

Retracing his steps to the cab, he paused at the open door. Turning around, he straightened to attention and saluted. Then he slid into the back seat and headed home.

* * *

_Written for the Outcast tag challenge on the shepsatlantis LJ community._


	17. Language Lesson

_A/N: Fluff Alert! Set during SG-1's The Pegasus Project._

**Language Lesson**

She was bored. Bored, bored, BORED. Daniel had moved past his disappointment with the Ancients and was now asking the hologram every question he could think of. Samantha and Cameron hadn't yet returned from blowing things up, and Muscles had stayed in the Milky Way. That completely adorable Col. Sheppard was nowhere to be found, and she hadn't met anyone else at all interesting.

Vala wandered down the corridor and tagged along with a small group to a room filled with laptops and shiny devices, the kind Daniel had warned her about touching, threatening to cancel her ebay account if one Lantian object made its way back to Earth in her pocket. The people she had followed took seats around the room and began typing on the computers. She had been around Samantha long enough to recognize a place like this. A lab. She had found a lab.

Heaving a sigh as she turned to go, she heard a mutter that had to be a curse judging by the tone. It was in a language she'd never heard, and her eyes darted around the room in search of the speaker. A grin curved her lips as she spotted him, and it simply _had_ to be him. Longish hair in disarray, glasses sliding down his nose even as he unconsciously pushed them back up, mouth in constant motion as he talked to himself.

Daniel had told her not to play with any of the devices. He hadn't mentioned anything about people.

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she sauntered across the lab and sidled up to him. "Hello there."

The little man jerked at the sound of her voice. He glanced up at her, blinking rapidly, then looked over each of his shoulders. "Um, hello. Can I help you?"

She gave him her most seductive smile and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "I'll bet you can."

A blush started at his collar and raced to the tips of his ears. Coughing, he stared at her wide-eyed. "Really?" he squeaked then cleared his throat. "That is to say, who are you?"

"Vala Mal Doran." She perched on a stool and leaned against the work table, displaying her figure as much as the BDUs would allow.

His eyes traveled down her, halting at her shoulder then popping back to her face. "Oh! You are from the SGC. Radek Zelenka."

"I'm sorry?" She was only slightly annoyed that he hadn't looked any further.

"My name is Radek Zelenka."

"Oh. Nice to meet you. I heard you say something when I came in. What language were you speaking?"

"Czech."

"Czech? Daniel speaks oodles of languages, but I've never heard of that one."

"Daniel? Oh, Dr. Jackson. Yes, I met him before we left Earth. He asked me to teach him, but then we got busy and found Atlantis. I'm afraid we never had time."

A thrill ran down her spine, and she bounced on the stool. "You speak a language that Daniel doesn't know?"

"Well, it has been three years. He may have learned it since I left. But if not, then, yes, I do."

A wicked gleam shone from her eyes. "I would like to learn a few phrases in your language. Would you teach me?"

"Now? I am in the middle of…." He trailed off as she curled around his arm.

"Please, Radek." Pouting, she batted her eyelashes at him and smirked as he visibly caved.

"What is it you would like to say?"

Vala whispered in his ear and giggled at his reaction; she hadn't realized a human could turn that particular shade of red.

"Oh. Oh my. Well, um…." He pulled his glasses off and cleaned them with the edge of his jacket. "Do you really intend to say that to Dr. Jackson?"

"Of course. It will drive him _insane_ until he translates it then he'll turn pink just like you did."

He adjusted the glasses, and a grin slid across his face. "In that case, I have another phrase for you."

She thought she had forgotten how to blush until Zelenka translated it for her. Vala squealed in delight and spent the next hour perfecting her pronunciation and inflection. Radek relaxed, laughing with her as she butchered one particular verb. But she finally mastered the phrases and thanked him profusely for his help.

"You are quite welcome. Just don't mention to Dr. Jackson where you learned it."

"You have my solemn promise." She spun around on the stool and clapped her hands. "I can't wait to see the look on Daniel's face when I surprise him with this."

The citywide comm crackled to life. "_Vala Mal Doran, please report to the control room_."

"Alas, dear Radek, I fear my time is at an end." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "If you are ever on Earth…."

He blushed furiously again but met her eyes. "I shall look forward to our next encounter."

Hopping up, she headed out, pausing in the doorway to waggle her fingers at him one last time. He waved in return, ducking his head with a sly grin when one of the other scientists made a quiet comment. Hurrying to the control room, she chanted the phrases to herself. The trip home was going to be fun.

* * *

_Written for abyssinia4077's Leapgate comment ficathon on LJ. The prompt was Radek and Vala - surprise._


	18. Freedom

_A/N: No real spoilers but it does reference events and characters in S4's Outcast._

**Freedom**

When he was five and John was eight, Dad took them to Evel Knievel's performance at King's Island. They ate junk food and rode all the rides then settled to watch the show. He didn't like it; the crowd was too loud and the stunts too scary. John, on the other hand, was completely enthralled. When the daredevil jumped fourteen buses, his brother turned to him wide-eyed, full of hero worship and grinning like an idiot.

"Did you see that, Davy? He flew!"

oOo

At his seventh birthday party, he found John sitting at the base of a tree staring at something in his hands.

Peeking over his big brother's shoulder, he asked, "What is it?"

"A baby bird. It must have fallen out of its nest."

"Why doesn't it fly back?"

"It's too young. Its wings aren't strong enough yet."

"What are you going to do with it?"

John stroked the bird's head with a gentle finger. "Take care of it until it can survive on its own."

Several weeks later, he watched tears stream down his brother's face as the bird flew away.

"If you loved it so much why didn't you keep it?"

"Because it was meant to be free."

oOo

The summer John turned thirteen, they took a family vacation to a Caribbean resort. Dad spent the entire time on the phone, leaving the boys to entertain themselves. Several exotic birds lived in the hotel lobby, and whenever his brother disappeared, Dave knew where to look.

"Why don't they fly away?"

"They can't," John answered sorrowfully. "Their wings have been clipped."

"Why?"

"To control them."

oOo

John asked for flying lessons for his sixteenth birthday; Dad bought him a Porsche. The relationship had always been rocky, and as the months progressed disagreements turned to shouting matches which became silence. After several tense weeks, John and Dad had a massive fight, and his brother slammed out of the house. Dave wandered down to the stable where John was furiously brushing down a horse.

"You OK?"

John stilled, resting his forehead on the mare's neck. "I can't be who he wants me to be, Dave. I'm not like him. Why can't he see that?"

"Maybe he just wants what's best for you."

"He wants what's best for him – someone to _be_ him one day. That's not me. I can't spend my life cooped up in a cage, even a gilded one like Dad's office. All I've ever wanted to do was fly."

oOo

Dave worked as an intern at Dad's company the summer before he entered Harvard's MBA program. Running back to his cubicle one afternoon to check his messages between meetings, he was surprised to find an envelope with his brother's familiar scrawl on his desk. Slicing it open, he pulled out a letter and a photo.

_Dave,_

_Got my wings today. I had hoped you'd be able to make the ceremony, but I understand why you couldn't come. Congrats on the internship, by the way. You'll do great. Just be sure it's what you really want. It's not too late to do your own thing. Take care, little brother._

_John_

In the snapshot, his brother was sitting in the cockpit of some fighter jet, grinning like an idiot, his expression filled with… something Dave couldn't quite put his finger on. The sound of Dad bellowing his name jerked him back to reality, and he hurriedly stuffed the note and picture in his drawer. At least John had been smart enough to send it to the office instead of the house.

His brother was wrong about one thing though. It was far too late for him. His fate had been sealed the day John had joined the Air Force. He wasn't strong enough to walk away from the money, the power, the security.

As he rushed to the board room, he finally identified what he'd seen in John's face.

Freedom.

* * *

_Written for abyssinia4077's Leapgate comment ficathon on LJ. Prompt was Dave and John Sheppard - wings._


	19. How to Lose Your Mind in Seven Days

_A/N: Missing scene for Midway. Spoilers for that ep._

**How to Lose Your Mind in Seven Days**

Being stuck in a jumper in the vastness between Pegasus and the Milky Way had at least one advantage. McKay rarely had the time or opportunity to stargaze, and as debris from Midway drifted by, he feasted his eyes on the swirl of stars and planets in front of him.

Kavanagh and Lee were ripping the rear of the jumper apart as they inventoried their supplies. The two Marines, names already forgotten, sorted a collection of dogtags. A quiet moan to his left caught his attention.

"You OK?"

"I'm fine, Rodney."

"Well, you don't sound fine."

Wheezing slightly, Sheppard scowled at the view, mouth set in a grim line, dark blotches of Wraith blood on his neck and arms in stark contrast to his pale skin.

"You know," McKay continued, "I'm sure Ronon is OK. After all, he's never happier than when he's killing Wraith."

That earned him a chuckle. "I'll bet he and Teal'c are having a competition. I hope the SGC is still standing when they get finished." John rubbed his neck, stretching slightly. "Did you ever meet him?"

McKay's mouth went dry. "Teal'c?"

"No, Ronon. Of course, Teal'c. Who else would I be talking about?"

"Who knows with you. Even the Wraith call you by name these days."

"You, too, in case you haven't noticed. And you didn't answer my question."

"Did I ever tell you about how Sam and I met?"

John rolled his eyes. "I thought you'd finally gotten past your obsession with Col. Carter."

"I am not obsessed, well I was a little but that was ages ago-"

"Ages? Last year you named a whale after her."

"In honor of her. She saved my life, you know."

"Your twisted imagination kept you going until Zelenka and I saved your life."

"Whatever. Anyway, this is not actually about Sam. I met her when I was summoned to the SGC to help save Teal'c."

"Really? Not a bad way to start."

The flush crept up his neck to his ears. "Please. This is me we're talking about."

Sheppard winced. "That bad, huh?"

"I told them Teal'c was a lost cause and they should move on."

"McKay!"

"I believed it at the time. I couldn't understand why they would waste so much time and effort on one man." He stared out the windshield as memories of Kolya and Wraith and sacrifice assaulted him. "I didn't understand."

"You're lucky O'Neill or Carter didn't kill you."

"They sent me to Russia instead. Almost as bad."

"Ah." The pilot ran his fingers over the controls, checking power levels and environmental status. "So you've been hiding from him."

"Hiding might be a little strong. I like to think of it as strategically retreating into my lab."

Sheppard snorted then flinched, massaging a temple with his fingertips.

"Hey, you hungry? I'm starved." Rodney hopped up and headed to the back. After snatching a couple of MREs and a few bottles of water, he rummaged through the medkit for pain relievers. He set the food and water on the console and plopped into the co-pilot's chair.

"Thanks," John murmured though he didn't reach for any of it.

"Yeah."

McKay downed a couple of Tylenol and handed a blister pack to Sheppard who grunted in appreciation and picked up a bottle of water. The noise level from the rear quieted a bit as everyone tucked into the food, and John's lids slowly slid shut. At least his breathing had returned to normal. Rodney was reminded of how close, how really damn close, they'd come again.

He had vented the atmosphere on Sheppard's order, and he knew – he _knew_ – that he'd killed him this time. An eternity had passed before Lee's voice reached him, an eternity of aloneness, remorse, and hideous grief. He'd already lost Carson and Elizabeth. Ronon was probably dead. Katie was gone. When Teyla found her people, he'd never see her again. And now he'd killed the brother he'd never had. He hadn't looked at the screens, hadn't watched the Wraith stagger and collapse as they suffocated because it was too easy to see John instead. And if Sheppard hadn't done his Darth Vader impersonation at exactly the right second….

Rodney still hadn't figured out how the hell the pilot had managed to get in that EVA suit and decided he didn't want to know. He had obeyed the order because John had entrusted him with the lives of four other men, and when they headed to the escape hatch, he'd taken point like John would, bitched at Lee for talking too much like John would, and been last into the jumper like John would. He had done what was necessary, and he'd do it again even if it cost the life of his friend. Living with it was another matter.

Sheppard jerked, gasping, then settled in his chair without waking. Needing something other than memories to keep him occupied, McKay searched the cockpit then wandered into the back. One of the Marines was sleeping on a bench, and the other was methodically cleaning a revolver. Unbelievable. Kavanagh continued to take inventory, and Lee was constructing a rations list on a laptop. Bingo.

"Just what I needed," Rodney announced as he snatched the computer from Bill's hands.

"Hey, I was using that."

McKay glanced at the screen. "I hardly think that you need a laptop to calculate the milliliters of water per person," he poured on the sarcasm, "unless you really did order your PhD from ebay."

"I, uh, that's not…. How can you say that?" Lee spluttered.

"Oh, please," Kavanagh muttered. "Wait until he gets going. This is only the beginning of the nightmare."

"This from the man who just destroyed the SGC's several billion dollar gatebridge that Col. Carter and I created. I don't think you really want to speak right now."

"I didn't know-"

"Exactly, you didn't know, and you pushed the button anyway. How the hell you aren't flipping burgers at McDonald's by now is a mystery to me, but I suspect it might be in your near future so sit down and shut up."

Spinning on his heel, he stomped to the front and dropped into his seat, typing furiously.

"Feel better?" Sheppard asked sleepily.

"No," he snapped. Clenching his fists, he took a few deep breaths. "Kavanagh is the thorn in my side that simply won't go away. Sorry to wake you."

"Mmph." John shifted a bit and closed his eyes. "Thinking of sending him to Russia?"

"Only if I wanted to start the Cold War again. I was thinking of blowing the rear hatch."

The corner of Sheppard's mouth quirked up. "Might get a little cozy with Lee, Jones, and Middleton sealed in here with us."

"That's the only thing stopping me."

John's muffled chuckle faded, and his breathing evened out into sleep. McKay spent the next few hours redesigning the Midway station – adding an iris to each gate, additional failsafes to the self-destruct, hatches for escape pods, and an auxiliary control room.

The bickering in the back grew louder as Lee and Kavanagh discussed the best ways to cheat at World of Warcraft while the Marines compared notes on missions. Sheppard's breathing hitched a couple of times, and he mumbled indistinctly. A shudder ran through him as he cried out, and the group in the rear grew still.

Rodney shook his shoulder gently then more firmly when John squirmed in his grasp. "Sheppard, wake up. You're dreaming."

The pilot exploded upward, knocking McKay backward into his chair and pressing a 9mil to his forehead.

"It's me, Sheppard! It's Rodney."

John stared wild-eyed at him for a moment before exhaling audibly. "Shit, McKay. I could have killed you. Don't ever do that again."

"Don't worry. I won't."

Sheppard holstered the weapon and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Sorry about that." He slumped in his seat, his head tilting to rest against the chairback.

Rodney rubbed the indentation from the muzzle while he waited for his heart to start beating again. "It's OK. I should've known by now. You and Ronon don't react well to being woken up." Glaring at the group in the back, he snapped, "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not really," Lee answered.

"Find something," he hissed as he slapped the bulkhead door controls. Picking up his computer, he pretended his hands weren't shaking and made sure his work was saved. "You want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Ah, well, OK…."

"Are you finished with that?"

"The computer? I've completed my initial designs. You want to use it?"

"Yeah."

"There aren't any games on it."

"I didn't intend on playing games. Does it have Word?"

"I think so, but the mission report template probably isn't on there."

"I have fourteen dead Marines, Rodney. I need to write a few letters."

"Oh. Of course. Sorry. I think I'll, uh, go… keep the kids entertained while you, ah, you know, write."

John failed to hide his relief. "Thanks."

One of the Marines – Johnson, Jones, something – grinned at him when the doors slid open. "Found a deck of cards."

"Oh, joy. Please tell me you also found something to bet with because if this turns out to be strip poker I really am blowing the rear hatch."

Jones nodded. "Stash of PowerBars."

"Ooo, deal me in."

"Weirdest experience ever," Lee said as he shuffled and dealt.

"What?"

"That's what we were discussing when you came in. Our weirdest experiences."

Rodney frowned at his cards and tossed a couple. "Two." Shuffling the new ones in, he pondered the question. "There are so many to choose from."

"Three," Kavanagh muttered with disgust. "Are you saying you've experienced something stranger than having Cadman in your head?"

Middleton's gaze darted between them. "What?"

"She was trying to save McKay's life and got sucked into his brain."

"That is not what happened. We were looking for survivors on M2R-474…."

Halfway through his diatribe on the fallacies of Wraith culling technology, the bulkhead door slid shut behind him.

A couple of hours later, Rodney's eyes were crossing as Lee and Kavanagh debated whether Laurel and Hardy or Abbott and Costello were the better comedy duo.

Knocking first, he pressed the door control and called, "It's McKay. Don't shoot."

Receiving no reply, he peeked inside. John was slumped over the controls snoring softly, the computer balancing precariously on the DHD. MRE remains lay crumpled next to an empty water bottle on the floor. Rescuing the laptop, Rodney glanced at the screen.

_Dear Mrs. Ramirez,_

_My name is Lt. Col. John Sheppard, and your son, Manuel, served under my command. By now, you've been informed of Manny's death. Please accept my condolences on your loss. He was an excellent soldier and very popular with the other men and women on the base, military and civilian alike. He spoke of you often, raving about your homemade tamales. I know this won't make up for his loss but be assured that he fought bravely and died honorably, saving untold lives in the process. His death was hard and terrible because a goddamn Wraith was sucking his life out of his chest, and I couldn't_

He blinked in surprise and reread the letter. Sheppard rarely admitted to struggling with decisions, but to see it in black and white, to see physical evidence of self-recrimination shocked the hell out of McKay. He chewed on a nail as he contemplated the pilot then deliberately deleted the last sentence.

_I hope it brings you a little comfort to know his death was quick and painless. I was proud to know him, proud to have served with him. He will be missed._

_Sincerely,_

_Lt. Col. John Sheppard_

Closing the lid, he laid the computer in a chair, pulled up the HUD to check their status, and slipped into the rear of the jumper, shutting the door.

**Day Two**

Having his invaluable fingers squished by a combat boot was not the most pleasant way to awaken.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, McKay," John whispered as he stepped over him.

Rubbing the grit from his eyes, he squinted at the pilot. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

Pulling a kit from the overhead bin, John rummaged through it quietly. Peter mumbled and rolled over, his elbow barely missing Bill's nose. Sheppard gathered a few items and headed back to the cockpit, closing the door behind him.

Curious, Rodney pushed himself up and opened the kit, finding it filled with personal hygiene products. Oh. He was suddenly mortified at the combination of lack of privacy and bodily functions. The Daedalus couldn't get there fast enough.

xxx

"We wanted different things: I wanted to be married; she didn't. She asked for a divorce the day we dropped off our youngest at college."

"You were married?" Middleton seemed stunned.

"For twenty-seven years," Lee replied. "Just because I can't benchpress three hundred pounds or run for twenty miles without breaking a sweat doesn't mean that women don't find me attractive. You should see how the chicks flock to me at-"

"Eight hours," Sheppard growled as the doors parted. "You've been talking for eight straight hours. Stop. Now." Stepping over McKay and Jones, he gathered an armful of MREs and water. "I need a few minutes of quiet."

"Are you kidding?"

"No, Kavanagh, I'm not. I have a stunner, and I'm not afraid to use it so give your vocal chords a rest before I'm forced to rip them out."

Striding to the front, he dumped his stash in the co-pilot chair and activated the door controls. The silence lasted all of ten minutes. Rodney fell asleep while Lee and Kavanagh compared and contrasted Star Trek's original series to The Next Generation.

**Day Three**

"McKay!"

He bolted upright, smacking his head on a bench. "What? Oh, oh ouch! Gah! That's two days in a row, Sheppard. Are you trying to kill me?"

"Is it working?"

"Ha. Solitary confinement is not improving your rapier wit. Is there something you needed?"

"The computer has MP3s on it but no speakers. Are there headphones?"

"Hmmmm…." Rodney climbed to his feet and cast about the area. MREs, water, two handguns, used tooth swabs, a curtain of uniform pieces for the DisposaJohn corner, an open case with playing cards. "Aha."

Poking through it, he palmed a Snickers bar and handed over the headphones.

"Thanks." John paused at the bulkhead. "You know you don't have to stay back here."

Ignoring the urge to fling himself into the forward compartment, he took a good look at Sheppard. Stress lines carved grooves next to the black smudges under his eyes, and Rodney doubted that he'd had any real sleep. John would be dead to the world once he put those headphones on, and McKay would definitely go insane with only his thoughts to keep him company.

"Maybe later."

"Suit yourself."

The pilot disappeared into the cockpit, and Rodney devoured the candy, savoring each bite. He later bemoaned his decision as the argument of phasers versus lightsabers entered its third hour.

**Day 4**

"Angelina Jolie or Jennifer Aniston?"

"Angelina," Jones answered.

"Definitely," Middleton said while Kavanagh and Lee nodded.

"Jessica Alba or Jessica Biel?" Jones asked.

"Biel," Kavanagh and Middleton chorused.

"Did you see The Fantastic Four?" Lee questioned. "That stretchy suit? Alba."

"Right. Alba," McKay decided.

"Julia Roberts or Meg Ryan?"

"Julia," they agreed.

Peter smiled. "Julia or Catherine Zeta-Jones?"

**Day Five**

"If you even try to open that door, I will let Middleton shoot you," Rodney declared.

"Come on, McKay," Kavanagh whined. "He's been holed up in there for two days with the laptop. He needs to share."

Rodney stepped into the man's personal space. "You are not going in there," he snarled in his best Ronon imitation.

Peter's smug expression cracked slightly. "Fine. You go get the computer then."

"No one is getting the computer. Sheppard is using it. Now drop it."

**Day 6**

"The colonel grabs the back of his vest and starts dragging him to the jumper, firing the entire time. Ramirez said he killed at least twelve Wraith on the way." Middleton's voice was smothered in hero worship.

So that was Ramirez. Sheppard had shot five Wraith according to Rodney's recollection. Ronon had dispatched the rest while McKay and Teyla had helped the wounded into the jumper.

Jones smiled sadly. "He was a good guy."

"They all were, Rick," Middleton countered. "I lost my entire team this time."

"Yeah, me too."

Chills raced up Rodney's spine. To lose his entire team….

"We lost a few ourselves," Lee murmured.

McKay couldn't suppress a shiver as he remembered the name and face of every person who had died while working for him. Accidents, Wraith, Replicators – all had taken a toll, a high one.

**Day 7**

"'Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs….'"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Die Hard. Is that the best you've got?"

Rubbing his chin, Lee stared at his cards. "Any fours?"

"Go fish."

Bill drew and heaved a sigh. "'You are a pig from hell.'"

"That was uncalled for," Kavanagh retorted. "And for the record, I don't like you either."

"What? No, it's a movie quote. 'You are a pig from hell.'"

"Oh."

Rodney banged his head against the wall. The movie review had been going since breakfast: if Harrison Ford was really a replicant in Blade Runner, whether Batman or James Bond had cooler gadgets, who would win in a fight between Rocky and Rambo. McKay was not going to be responsible for his actions if the Daedalus didn't arrive soon.

"I have no idea," Peter confessed.

"Steel Magnolias," Jones muttered. He smiled sheepishly as Middleton gaped at him in horror. "It's my fiancé's favorite movie."

"Wait until I tell the guys back home."

Rick quirked a brow at him. "You do that, Doug. Of course, I may let it slip to Dr. Biro that you dream about her. Did you know you talked in your sleep?"

Kavanagh turned green. "That is more than I ever wanted to know." He peered at his cards. "Any threes?"

Lee huffed and handed one over. "He was right, by the way. It was from Steel Magnolias. You try."

"'Returning from the dead wasn't all that I expected… but that's life.'"

"I have no idea. Any eights?"

"Go fish. It's from Pearl Harbor."

It wasn't too late to blow the rear hatch.

"That was a terrible movie."

No jury in the universe would find him guilty of murder.

"Are you crazy? It's a classic. Michael Bay is a genius."

Not after seven days of torture by conversation.

* * *

_Written in response to leesaperrie's request in sgagenrequest on LJ._


	20. Shattered

_A/N: Episode tag for The Kindred. Massive spoilers ahead._

**Shattered**

Radek didn't bother asking. He knew where he'd find him, the same place they always found him when he was hurting – Dr. Weir's balcony. He supposed Col. Sheppard thought they couldn't tell. Perhaps no one had ever told him that he talked with his eyes.

At some point, every one of them had been out there – he, Rodney, Ronon, Teyla (_please let them find her soon_), even Col. Carter, but Col. Sheppard most of all. Zelenka wandered through the darkened control room, nodding at the skeleton crew working the night shift. Glancing through the stained glass, he could barely distinguish Sheppard's silhouette.

John didn't move when the doors open, but Radek had no doubt that he was aware of his presence. "Col. Sheppard? May I speak with you for a moment?"

Bowing his head slightly, John sighed deeply before turning. "What can I do for you, Dr. Z?"

"I am concerned for Rodney."

Sheppard's brows drew together. "Concerned how?"

Zelenka crossed then uncrossed his arms. "He is not himself."

"What does that mean?"

"He has not been in the lab for several days now."

The corner of John's mouth quirked upward. "You know McKay. He's probably holed up somewhere with a laptop."

"That's just it, Colonel. He isn't. He hasn't signed on to the system this week. He's not hiding. He simply isn't working."

Sheppard blinked lazily at him as if a fog was beginning to lift. "I see. Do you know where he is?"

Taking a moment to push his glasses up, Radek contemplated the man before him, wondering when he had slept last. Even in the dim moonlight, he could see the new stress lines on his face and the smudges under his eyes. John's team was struggling to cope. Sheppard isolated himself. Ronon had destroyed a punching bag and two practice dummies. And Rodney….

"Doc?"

"He's in the stasis chamber."

"What? Why?"

"This is my concern, Colonel. He's… talking to Carson."

Sheppard's chin dropped to his chest as he rubbed the back of his neck. "God, Radek. I wasn't…. I should have been paying more attention. I knew…."

"It is understandable. You have been focused on finding Teyla and stopping Michael. I wasn't sure if I should say anything, but, well, I know Rodney is not good in dealing with loss. When Dr. Weir…. He still won't talk much about it."

"You did the right thing, Doc. Thanks for letting me know."

With a nod, Zelenka left as John turned back to the ocean.

oOo

He was an idiot. He had seen the look on McKay's face as they put Carson in the pod, had watched him shy away from saying goodbye, filling the silence with words that said little. One by one, they had left the room except for Rodney who had stood at the entrance and stared. Then a relayed message from Todd had sent them out searching for Teyla. But the intel had been old and the ship gone by the time they arrived. In the intervening weeks, they had heard nothing else.

The expedition was busy relocating the Athosians for the umpteenth time in four years and helping the worlds ravaged by Michael's virus. When John had a spare minute from that, he and Ronon were revisiting their trading partners for a word, a scrap of information on Teyla. McKay had begged off, claiming he could do more to help in his lab, and Sheppard had been too tired to argue. He should have known.

Stepping from the transporter, he navigated the corridor to the stasis room, continuing to berate himself. He heard Rodney's voice before the doors slid open.

"… so the whales were trying to save us all along. Sheppard had some crackhead idea about using the ZPM to power the Daedalus' shields to block the flare – it worked too; still can't believe it. I guess they'll die next time – we do have fifteen thousand years to come up with a plan. Did I tell you we aren't on that planet anymore? Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Then-"

He was a flurry of waving arms and snapping fingers as he paced in front of the pod.

"McKay."

Rodney's shoulders hunched up to his ears, and he paused in mid-step. "Do you mind?"

John walked through PowerBar wrappers, several mess hall trays, and a darkened laptop to face him. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're having a one-sided conversation with a man in stasis."

"There's that Mensa intellect at work."

"Rodney-"

"What I do in my off-time is none of your business."

"Your off-time? When was the last time you had on-time? Have you been to your lab lately?"

"I don't need to be in my lab to work. I'm doing fine from here."

"Really? What are you working on?"

"I'm, uh, I'm gathering my thoughts right now, taking a break."

"A physical or mental one because from where I'm standing-"

"Don't talk to me about mental health, Mr. Keep-it-bottled-up-inside. I didn't even know you had a family until a few weeks ago. You're so blinded by the fear of losing Teyla you can't see past the end of your nose. Why don't you go hide on the balcony and stare at the water for a while?"

McKay's tirade shook him, each word a blow. "I may stare at the water, but at least I haven't spent a week in here talking to a-"

"Don't you say it!" Rodney shouted. "Don't you dare say it. I'll figure this out and fix him, and he'll be good as new."

"Fix him? You're not a medical doctor, McKay, and you certainly aren't God. You can't fix every single thing wrong in the universe."

The pacing resumed, agitated fingers pulling at his hair. "I'm not trying to do that. I'm trying to fix him. And once he's back to normal, he and I can fix Elizabeth."

"What?"

"He can help me figure out a way to reprogram her nanites and we can rescue her from the replicators and fix her and we can find Teyla and then things can be the way they used to be." Sincerity shone a little too brightly from his eyes.

Oh, God. "McKay," he said gently, "we destroyed the replicators, remember? Elizabeth is dead. There's nothing to fix."

"No, no. That's not…. I- I need, I-" Rodney's chest heaved as his face paled then flushed. "Get out!"

In that moment, McKay's tenuous grasp on reality slipped away in front of John's eyes.

"Rodney, let's go grab some dinner." Maybe it wasn't too late.

"No." McKay folded his arms across his chest and backed into a corner, sliding to the floor. "I'm staying here. I can fix this. I can undo all the mistakes. Have to, have to, have to fix them."

Sheppard slowly advanced, arms raised with palms outward. "Of course, but you need to eat. You think best on a full stomach, remember?"

Rodney's face scrunched in concentration. "Yeah, you're right. I do." He pulled back when John offered him a hand up. "No, this is a trick. You're trying to stop me. Well, I won't let you. I'm staying right here." He wrapped his arms around his knees and lifted his chin in defiance.

"I can't let you do that. You need help."

"I thought- You- Carson-" McKay's eyes widened in panic. "No, no, no, no, no. Stay away from me."

"OK, take it easy." John took a step backward and activated his comm. "This is Sheppard. I need a medical team to the stasis chamber."

"NO!" Rodney screamed, leaping up and slamming into John. "I won't let you!"

Sheppard stumbled backward and fell as McKay punched wildly. He was stronger than he appeared. John's head snapped back, smacking into the floor. Rodney pushed away and bolted to the door. Shaking off the blow, Sheppard scrambled after him, snagging a foot. McKay hit the ground hard, his breath whooshing audibly from his lungs.

"Damnit, Rodney! Stop. I don't want to hurt you."

McKay kicked and squirmed as Sheppard tried to pin him down. "I hate you," he gasped. "Get away from me."

John caught an elbow in the eye and a boot to the ribs. "Ow! Rodney, please-"

"Won't let you stop me. I have to fix this."

He scooted away until his back hit the wall. The doors opened to admit the med team, and McKay flung himself into the hallway.

"Colonel?" Keller began.

"It's Rodney," he replied. "We need to catch him."

He rushed out the doors and down the corridor, spotting McKay a few steps from the transporter. With his best flying tackle, he hit his friend in the middle of the back, knocking them both to the floor. Blood squirted from Rodney's nose, and he yelped in pain. John wrapped his arms through McKay's, pinning his arms behind his back and pulling him to his feet.

"Let me go!" Rodney shouted. He bucked and twisted as he tried to free himself.

"Calm down, McKay."

"No, please, please, please, don't. Don't do this."

Keller stared blankly at them for a moment, looking stunned. Then she inserted a syringe in Rodney's arm. A low, keening sound from deep in McKay's throat echoed through the corridor. After a moment, his breathing slowed, and he stopped fighting, slumping in John's arms..

The med team helped him load Rodney on a gurney while Jennifer turned demanding eyes to him. "What happened?"

Grief and fear paralyzed him from the inside out. Please don't let it be too late. "He shattered."

* * *

_Written for the challenge on shepsatlantis._


	21. Until Under a Better Sky

_A/N: Missing scene for The Last Man. Massive spoilers. If you haven't seen the ep or read the transcript, you might want to wait to read this until you have._

**Until Under a Better Sky**

Ronon pushed past Lorne and Keller, stalking angrily from the conference room. He could hear Carter calling after him but ignored her as he slapped at the transporter controls. He had always preferred doing instead of talking, but he had endured staff meetings mostly because Sheppard had wanted his opinion. No one wanted to hear what he had to say these days.

He had been a soldier, had respected and obeyed his superiors even when he thought they were wrong, and he couldn't fault Col. Carter for doing the same. She had pushed hard for additional resources to fight Michael and his hybrids but only received a half-finished ship for her efforts. It wouldn't be enough. They needed to attack not just defend, to hit the heart of Michael's operation. The IOA wasn't willing to keep sending young men and women to die in a different galaxy. Somehow they had conveniently forgotten where Michael had come from.

Heading to the gym, he ran through a series of forms to warm up then grabbed a fighting stick, hearing Teyla's laugh, seeing Sheppard's smirk. He had thought of Atlantis as home for a while, but now that they were gone it felt cold, filled with strangers. Good people but not his people, not anymore. He sliced, parried, and blocked, feeling the lightness of John's empty casket, smelling the smoke of Teyla's funeral pyre. After an hour, he was panting, soaked in sweat, and clear on what to do. Bowing to the ghosts around him, he tidied up and headed to the gateroom.

The colonel was a flurry of activity as she searched her office, shouting questions to the techs manning the control room. She whirled in surprise when he knocked.

"Ronon. Hi." She brushed a lock of hair behind her ears as she stood. "I'm glad you came by."

"I want to leave Atlantis."

"Can we at least talk about it first?"

"Why? Your leaders aren't interested in helping the people of this galaxy."

Sam sat down heavily. "If it was up to me-"

"But it's not," he reminded her. "I can do something, make a difference. I've been training people since I got here, and I want to continue. I want to recruit volunteers for a strike force. We can coordinate attacks and share intel."

She smiled sadly at him. "I guess we've come full circle, haven't we?""

"Are you going to try to stop me from leaving this time?"

"No," she said unhesitatingly. "You're right. You can do a lot of good out there."

"I could do more with some C-4 and a few P-90s."

"I bet you could," she chuckled. "When you're ready, let me know. I'll give you anything we can spare." Standing, Carter walked around the desk and extended her hand. "Good luck to you. It's been an honor having you here."

Ronon shook her hand the way Sheppard had shown him. "Thank you, Colonel."

Making his way down to the labs, he could hear McKay ranting two corridors away. He wasn't sure exactly when he had started to think of Rodney as a friend, but years of missions had shown him a side of McKay that he had never expected to find, and he counted the man a member of his family.

"…seen the schematics? They didn't even finish the damn thing! Who the hell thought it was a good idea to send that pile of crap to a war zone? Just once I'd like for them to actually complete something before-"

"McKay," Ronon called.

"What! Oh, it's you." He sighed heavily as he turned back to his computer. "Can whatever it is you need wait for like a month while I-"

"I'm leaving Atlantis, Rodney."

McKay's head shot up as his hands stilled, pain flashing across his face. "What? Now? Why?"

Ronon thought of all the things he could say and went with the simplest. "I need to fight."

Rodney stared at him for a long moment. "Sheppard's not dead, you know."

"But he isn't coming back."

The sadness that had been swirling around McKay thickened, and the waning light in his eyes dimmed a little more. "It's not the same without them, is it?"

"No."

"Where will you go?"

"Thought I'd start on New Athos. Find some people to fight with me."

"Good idea," McKay said. "Halling will probably be your first recruit."

"You could come."

Rodney blinked slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips, and Ronon thought he might actually be considering it. Then McKay glanced at his computer and at Zelenka. "I can't. Not now. Sam needs me to get her ship ready." He sighed. "I can do more here to fight Michael. Thanks though."

Stepping around the worktable, McKay held out his hand like Carter had. The opportunity for Ronon to say goodbye to Sheppard and Teyla had been stolen from him; he wouldn't miss this one.

He pulled Rodney into a bear hug. "You're a good man, McKay."

Rodney stiffened at first then surprised Ronon by returning the hug. "You too, Big Guy," he whispered.

With a final pat on the shoulder and a wave at Radek, Ronon walked away. He roamed the halls once more – the rafters where he used to jog with Sheppard, the gym where Teyla taught him to meditate, the rec room where they'd spent so many team nights watching movies. He thought about what might have been as he peeked into the infirmary where Keller was frantically sorting medical supplies and what might still be as he wandered down to the stasis chamber.

"'Bye, Doc. I hope somebody someday finds a way to help you."

Returning to his quarters, he packed the belongings he deemed necessary – a change of clothes, extra energy cells for his blaster, a whetting stone, and his long coat. After a second, he added the filmy shirt Teyla had given him on his last birthday and the ridiculous hat Sheppard had insisted he needed. Impractical items, but he couldn't leave them behind. Glancing around a final time, he grinned as a memory surfaced. He picked up his bag and the item that sparked the recollection and headed out.

After stopping to drop it off, he made his way to the gateroom. Chuck wished him well and dialed the address he requested. Ronon strode quickly down the steps and through the gate, not looking back.

oOo

Rodney staggered to his quarters, too tired and too depressed to even eat. He was now officially alone again, and it hurt more than he'd ever imagined. He tossed his jacket on his desk and turned on the shower, hoping it would rinse away the loss and regret of the past few months, knowing it wouldn't. He slumped in a chair to kick off his shoes when he noticed the hideous painting propped up on his bed – three warriors on a desert landscape brandishing weapons beneath a blood red sky.

Standing suddenly, McKay pulled all of his diplomas from the wall and hung it in their place. Pretending the wetness on his face was from the shower he hadn't yet taken, he sat back down and stared at the three warriors long into the night.

* * *

_Written based on a question by PG-15 on GW about what Ronon did his last day on Atlantis._


	22. A Time to Heal

_A/N: Another The Last Man missing scene. And just so you know - this one is het (G-rated and canon only)._

**A Time to Heal**

"_Help me, Rodney!"_

"_Teyla! Where are you?"_

"_This way." The disembodied voice surrounded him, everywhere and nowhere._

_He ran in one direction then turned in another. The mist thickened around him, clutching at his clothes and his hair, tangling his legs. Falling, he swatted at the nothingness that held him._

"_Teyla!"_

"_Help me!"_

_Other voices joined hers – John, Ronon, Carson, Sam, Elizabeth. They screamed his name, begging for him to do something._

"_Tell me where you are. I can't find you."_

"Rodney?"

_Hands touched him all over, pulling him in every direction but keeping him still. He struggled in their grasp, flailing wildly._

"_Teyla!"_

"McKay!"

He bolted upright with a strangled cry and blinked at the darkness. Small hands caught his shoulders as fruit-scented hair brushed his face.

"Teyla? Oh, thank God. I didn't think I was ever going to wake-"

"No, Rodney. It's Jennifer." The bedside lamp clicked on, and she gazed sadly at him.

"Oh." He glanced around his quarters on the Daedalus. Damn. It was true. "Oh!" He pulled the sheet up to the armpits of his sweat-stained t-shirt. "Um, why are you here?"

"I haven't seen you since we left Atlantis three days ago." Her mouth twisted to the side as she tilted her head. "You're the only person I know on board, and I thought you might like to eat lunch together. I knocked a couple of times, and when I heard you…. Anyway, want to grab a bite?"

"Not really." Rodney lay back down and tugged the bed linens to his chin. "If you can turn off the light on your way out…."

Keller stood and glanced around the tiny space, her brows slanting to a V as she took in the piles of dishes and discarded uniform parts. "Have you left this room yet?"

"Of course I have."

"When? At midnight for snack runs to the mess hall? Penicillin has already been discovered, by the way."

"Your point?"

She sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand to his forehead.

"I'm not sick," he snapped.

"Well, that's a first."

"Very funny. I'm just catching up on all the sleep I've missed the past four years."

"Rodney, I'm a doctor. I know exhaustion when I see it, and this isn't it. You're hiding."

"I'm on a ship flying between galaxies. What is it you think I'm hiding from?"

"I don't know – yourself, the past, the future." She stood again and headed to the door. "I've lost more patients and friends than I can count in the past year. I'm not going to lose you too. I'll wait outside while you shower and dress. You have ten minutes."

"Or what?"

Keller arched a brow at him. "Or I'll find a Marine who will help you."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna bet?"

McKay glared at her. "Fine. I'll be right there."

The door clicked shut behind her, and he stared at the ceiling for another minute before dragging himself up and shuffling to the bath area. He scrubbed off days of sweat and grunge, washed his hair and shaved. Unable to bring himself to put on his Atlantis uniform, he grabbed a crew jumpsuit and a clean t-shirt. He was tying his shoes when Keller knocked again and peeked in.

"Much better." 

She gathered the trays closest to the door and looked at him expectantly until he piled the rest of the dishes together and followed her to the mess hall, sighing loudly. It was going to be a long three weeks.

oOo

"Come on, McKay. Put your running shoes on."

He didn't bother to look up from the laptop. "I do not run. That was Ron- I do not run."

"Then we'll walk."

"Are you always this irritating?"

That earned him a punch on the shoulder. "I need a break, and so do you."

He rubbed tired eyes and saved his document. His memories were already beginning to fade – Teyla's laugh, Ronon's grin, Sheppard's smirk. He was trying to capture them, everything about the best years of his life, good and bad. Movie nights, meals together, sparring lessons, Replicator attacks, chess matches, Genii invasions, tea ceremonies, Wraith sieges, birthday parties, enzyme overdoses, Christmas presents, ascension machines gone wild. All the faces that had gathered around him when he was dying, the people who had loved him, were gone now, and he wanted, he _needed_ to remember.

His emotions must have been showing on his face because a gentle hand landed on his shoulder, circling soothingly. Suddenly craving human contact, he leaned into it, relaxing when strong fingers kneaded knotted muscles.

"What have you been working on?" he asked.

The touch stilled and withdrew.

"Carson." Her features tightened when he swiveled to face her, his surprise evident. "I made him a promise, Rodney. Did you think I forgot?"

"I, uh, I didn't-"

"They cut medical personnel in the middle of a war zone. If they wouldn't let me help the dying, they certainly weren't going to give me or anyone else the time to find a cure for him." She dropped onto the corner of his bed. "I thought it through. I brought most of the samples and a copy of all the research with me. I'll find a practice with an adequate lab where I can work about three days a week and search for the answer in my spare time."

McKay looked at her, really looked at her. Fine lines bracketed the dark smudges under her eyes, and her shoulders drooped. Sometimes he forgot that he wasn't the only one with survivor's guilt. She had lost several of the medical staff in Michael's attacks, and the sheer number of soldiers she'd had to identify by DNA was staggering.

"You're right," he said, pushing away from his desk. "We need a break. Let's take a walk."

oOo

Rodney's stomach rumbled, and he frowned when he glanced at his watch. Keller usually interrupted him at the same time every day; she was almost an hour late. He shut down his laptop then carefully closed the photo album that he had been using to jog his memory. 

Elizabeth had bequeathed it to him. Maybe he'd done it to honor her memory or because he knew she would have wanted it done, but he had continued adding pictures to it after she was lost, visual evidence of who they'd been and what they'd done. It was his most prized possession.

After checking Keller's quarters, he made his way to the infirmary and was pointed toward a research lab.

"There you are. I thought-"

Keller had both arms braced on the work table, head bowed and shoulders shaking. She flinched at the sound of his voice and seemed to curl inward as her hands flew to her face.

Something about the movement pricked his heart, and he was across the room before he realized he'd moved. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated for a moment then wheeled around and buried her face in his chest, clenching the back of his shirt as she sobbed.

He sucked at this; he had no idea what to do. He asked himself what Sheppard would do then rolled his eyes at the thought – the only guy worse than him when it came to emotional stuff was John. What would Carson do?

Wrapping his arms around her, he held her until the tears subsided. "Do you, um, want to talk about it?"

"All those people," she hiccupped. "Dying because of us. Thousands and thousands of innocent people."

"It's not your fault, Jennifer."

Pulling away from him, she swiped at her face angrily. "It doesn't matter if it isn't my fault. We turned our backs on them. We created Michael then left the galaxy to fend for itself when he became too much for us to handle. Does that sound familiar?"

"Disturbingly so."

"You'd think we would have learned something from the mistakes the Ancients made, but no. We make the same error and turn tail just like they did."

"Do you want to go back?"

"I wouldn't have left if I thought there was a chance of changing their minds. You heard Woolsey. We are going to cover our asses and let Michael have the rest of the galaxy. We don't leave our people behind but to hell with everyone else." She took a deep breath. "Sorry. It just gets to me sometimes."

He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "Yeah. Me too."

Jennifer wiped her eyes again, and a blush suddenly crept up her cheeks. "Uh, if you'll excuse me a sec, I need to wash my face."

"Oh, OK. I'll just, ah, wait here."

McKay wandered around the lab, picking up test tubes and slides while she disappeared in the back. When she returned, her eyes were a little brighter than before, and a small smile played around her lips.

"Did you need something?"

He blinked in confusion. "No."

Her smile grew bigger. "Why are you here, Rodney?"

"Oh. It's lunchtime. Are you hungry?"

"Starved."

oOo

Elbows propped on the table, McKay held his head in his hands. "I thought the dreams would stop after a while. Or at least slow down."

Jennifer squeezed his arm lightly. "Do you want something to help you sleep?"

"No. Drugs make it worse. I can't wake up."

"Tell me about your dreams."

"What good would that do?"

She shrugged. "What will it hurt? Maybe you need to get something off your chest, out in the open."

Sighing, he decided it was worth a try. Talking with Heightmeyer used to work. "They're basically variations on a theme. I'm caught somewhere dark, and my team is begging for my help, but I can't find them."

"Do you blame yourself for what happened to them?"

"Sheppard – yes. Teyla and Ronon are maybes. Sam, Carson, and Elizabeth-"

"Not everything that goes wrong in the universe is your fault, you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We were in this together, Rodney. All of us. It wasn't a one man show. Activating Dr. Weir's nanites was my idea. No one else went fishing with Carson that day either. Dozens of us searched for Teyla. Ronon and Col. Carter knew exactly what they were doing. As for Col. Sheppard, you can't control solar flares."

"No, but I could control the gate operating system. I shouldn't have let anyone travel while we were experiencing glitches."

"What would he tell you to do if he was here?"

"To stop using my mouth and start using my brain."

The corner of her mouth quirked upward. "And have you?"

"God, Jen, I've thought about it every day since Sam and I figured out what happened to him. I don't have a clue how to reach forty-eight thousand years into the future." His throat tightened painfully. "I should have done more. I should have stopped all of this from happening."

Taking his hand, she softly asked, "How? What could we have done differently?"

oOo

"Do you think they'll ever rebuild Midway?" she asked.

McKay was transfixed as hyperspace flowed around them. "Hmmmm?"

Jennifer nudged his shoulder with hers. "Pay attention."

"What?"

"Do you think they'll rebuild the Midway Station? That's where we are, isn't it?"

"Close. We passed that point yesterday. In answer to your question – no, I don't think they'll rebuild. It would be too easy for Michael to gain access to Earth."

"Are you OK? You sound… lost."

He turned from the window and sank into a chair. "I'm homeless."

"What does that mean?"

"You know. Without a home. Homeless."

"Yes, Rodney, I understand the definition of the word. You'll have tons of job offers, and you should have a ridiculous amount in savings already. Why would you be homeless?"

"I didn't say I don't have a place to live. I don't have a home. Atlantis was the first place I ever really felt at home. It was the people. And I never told them."

"They knew." She said it with such certainty he almost believed it.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I was there, remember? Everything you think marches across your face. Especially what you feel. I saw you when Teyla and I returned from New Athos, when you brought Col. Sheppard home after the Travelers captured him, when Ronon came back from the mission with the Wraith worshippers. I also saw their faces when we got back from being stuck in that hole in the ground. They felt the same way about you."

"I still wish I would have said it though. I would have screwed it up, of course, but at least I would know that they knew."

"What's done is done."

"I hate that phrase," McKay muttered.

"I do, too, but that doesn't make it any less true. What you can do is let your past change you. If that's your regret, decide now to be different. Don't close yourself off. Make new friends and tell them how you feel. Tell your sister when you see her." Her eyes lost focus as she stared into the distance. "I can't wait to hug my dad and tell him I love him."

"Is that where you'll go when we get to Earth? Where your dad lives?"

Jennifer shook her head. "Chippewa Falls is too small. I need a place that has the proper research facilities. I was thinking of Chicago or Minneapolis or-"

"Seattle?"

She smiled shyly at him. "Seattle's nice, too."

oOo

"…but do they listen to me? No! Why bother asking? I spent a month installing these systems on the Phoenix, and I have more experience than everyone in the engineering department. Added together. They call me down there then completely discount what I have to say. Of course, they couldn't find two brain cells to rub-"

"Rodney."

"What!"

"Take a breath," Jennifer said calmly.

"Were you even listening?"

"Of course I was. Everyone was. They can hear you in the Ori galaxy."

"Well, aren't you the epitome of wit today."

She struggled to keep a straight face then dissolved into giggles. "Your face is beet red."

"You're actually enjoying this!"

"Absolutely. That's the first time in over two weeks you've sounded like yourself – all sassy and smug."

McKay stared at her in horror. "Did you just call me sassy?"

Laughing even harder, she wiped tears from her eyes. "You heard me."

Fighting the urge to laugh himself, he glared at her. "I am not, nor have I ever been, sassy."

"Cranky?"

"No."

"Irritable?"

"I may have been irri_tated_ but not irritable."

"Of course. Silly me. What was I thinking?" Jennifer grinned at him as she removed her gloves and lab coat. "Now that you've gotten it all out of your system, are you ready for dinner?"

"I could eat. What was I getting out of my system?"

"A full-blown, trademark McKay rant." 

She hugged his arm as they headed to the mess hall. When she slid her hand from his elbow to his wrist then intertwined her fingers in his, he completely forgot about the sarcastic quip he'd been formulating.

"Oh."

oOo

Rodney stood at the viewport as they glided past Mars. He'd seen many amazing sights in the past few years, but this one never ceased to thrill him. They'd come out of hyperspace early, and he'd been watching for hours as first Saturn then Jupiter slid by.

He'd also been rehearsing what he wanted to say to Jennifer. They'd spent almost every waking moment together the past few days. She did laundry with him, prompted him with stories from Atlantis' infirmary, hugged him tightly on Teyla's birthday. He brought her coffee, watched _Titanic_ for the tenth time with her, bit the inside of his mouth until it bled when she insisted that Spiderman was cooler than Batman.

He had decided to take her advice to make new friends and tell them how he felt. And he was going to start with her. He knew he'd trip over the words and embarrass himself, but she'd already seen him at his worst and was still speaking to him.

This definitely was not the life he'd expected or wanted to have, but he had been given another chance to start fresh, and he was going to take it. He would live, and he hoped his friends, his family, would be proud.

"Are you packed?" Jennifer asked as she materialized next to him.

"I finished last night. You?"

"Yep. I'm ready."

"Are you?" Rodney turned to face her. "Are you really ready to go back to living a normal life on Earth?"

She brushed her hair from her face as she studied the stars. "Nothing about my life will ever really be normal again. I've seen too much. But I am ready to move forward. I won't ever forget, but I'm going to try to not dwell. What about you?"

"I have no idea what normal is. I've worked in the Stargate program for over eight years and consulted with the Air Force on top secret projects before that. I can't imagine what it will be like to have a regular job, to live in a house, to drive to work. To not carry a gun or get shot at or fly or have things work because I think about them. I run into my door at least once a day."

Jennifer chuckled quietly. "It will definitely be-"

"Boring?"

"Different."

McKay stuffed his hands in his pockets then pulled them out again so he could talk. "I wanted to, um, talk to you… ah, well, I wanted to ask if, uh…." He felt his ears get hot. This was worse than he'd thought. "I was hoping…."

She turned to face him with a smile. "You are so bad at this."

"I know. I can absolutely skewer people with words most of the time, but then I get into… a… situation…."

Stepping into his personal space, she kissed him softly. "It's just me, Rodney," she whispered. "Talk to me."

He got lost in her eyes for a minute and found himself kissing her again. She smiled encouragingly at him so he took a deep breath and said it as fast as he could.

"I'mcrazyaboutyouandIwantyoutocometoSeattlewithme."

Jennifer blinked at him and grinned. "I have no idea what you just said."

Groaning, he turned away, but she tugged at his chin until he faced her again.

"Say it again. Slowly."

"I'm crazy about you, and I want you to come to Seattle with me." He cringed as she regarded him for a moment, her gaze piercing.

"OK."

"Really? You don't want to think about it or something?" It couldn't be that easy.

"I like you too, Rodney. A lot. I've been thinking about it for quite some time now."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"It's the first thing I've been sure of for a long time," he admitted. "Hold that thought." He turned her to face the viewport. "Don't miss this."

She gasped when they flew past Earth's moon, and he smiled at the delight on her face as the beautiful blue dot in the distance that was their homeworld grew until it filled the window.

"I love that part," he said. "I guess we're home."

"I'm a little scared," she confessed.

"There's nothing to be…. I'm a little nervous myself." Rodney looked at her seriously. "I'm glad I don't have to do it alone."

Jennifer ran her hand down his arm, and he leaned down to kiss her once more. Time to start living again.

* * *

_Written by request for **sb4ever** who wanted to see McKay and Keller on the Daedalus. Hope it's close to what you were expecting, hon._


	23. Crazy Glue

_A/N: Sequel to Shattered (Ch 20). General S4 Spoilers_

**Crazy Glue**

Sam hovered at the edge of the critical care area, quietly observing Sheppard

Sam hovered at the edge of the critical care area, quietly observing Sheppard. He was slumped in a chair next to Rodney's bed, elbows on knees and head bowed. He seemed oblivious to the nurse moving silently around him notating a chart as she checked McKay's vitals. Turning away, Carter entered the lab in search of Dr. Keller. Nodding to a couple of techs preparing blood samples, she made her way to the table where Jennifer was working.

"Hey."

Keller glanced up from her computer. "Hi, Sam."

"Any change?"

"Not so far."

"Why the restraints?"

Jennifer grimaced. "I hated to do that, but even drugged he was thrashing around so much he pulled out his IVs."

"What does Rodriguez say?" Carter asked.

"He's still studying the brain scans. He isn't as familiar with Rodney as Kate was."

"Has Sheppard been here the entire time?"

"For two days now." Keller leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes. "I doubt I could make him leave if I wanted to. I had to threaten Ronon with sedation if he didn't go get something for them to eat."

"When do you think you'll know something?"

Keller's gaze slid to her computer and back. "Soon. I want to check one last thing."

"Let me know as soon as you can."

Sam headed back to the patient area to stand next to Sheppard. She'd sat this vigil enough times to know that nothing she said would assuage his guilt and fear, but that wouldn't stop her from trying.

"How are you, John?"

He laughed mirthlessly. "Me? Never better."

"This isn't your fault, you know."

"Rodney is my responsibility. I should have seen this coming." Sheppard's voice was saturated with self-recrimination.

Carter moved to see him better, leaning against the bedside table. "You couldn't have prevented this. Whatever this is."

John glanced at her sharply. "What are you saying?"

"I've known Rodney for a long time. Maybe not as well as you do, but enough to know he isn't mentally unstable. My team walked a similar path once with Daniel. It almost killed us to watch him fall apart. We thought we'd failed him, especially Ja- General O'Neill. But Daniel wasn't insane. He was suffering a side effect of an alien device inside him."

He gave her a puzzled look. "You think something alien is making McKay crazy?"

"I think anything's possible. This might really be a psychotic break. If it is, we'll get him the best care available."

"You mean send him back to Earth."

"If that's what it takes for him to recover, yes."

"Recover?" Sheppard scoffed. "You think Rodney's going to spend some quality time in a rubber room with a white coat that ties in the back and recover? He may find his way back to reality one day, but life as he knows it will be over, and that will kill him."

"We have a long way to go before we get there, Colonel," Sam reminded him calmly. "Let's see what the doctors have to say."

"I knew he was having a hard time dealing with Carson's… condition. I-"

"John," Carter interrupted sternly. "I understand your need to protect your team. I really do. But you have to accept the fact that sometimes shit happens. You can't always be in control of every situation." She squeezed his shoulder gently. "McKay is as much my responsibility as he is yours. Stop hogging all the blame."

The taut muscles under her hand relaxed slightly as his chin dipped further.

"She's right." Keller said, moving around them to inject something into McKay's IV. "This isn't your fault. Or anyone else's here for that matter. I don't think Rodney cracked under the pressure. I think he's having a reaction."

"A reaction? To what?" Sheppard asked.

Jennifer massaged her temples and stared at the floor for a second before meeting their eyes. "The last time McKay went to the new Athosian settlement, he came back with a rash, like poison ivy, on his hands and arms. We tried several different treatments to clear it up, but nothing worked so I prescribed Prednisone."

Carter glanced down at his arms. "It seems to have been effective. What does that have to do with anything?"

"He has ten times the dosage in his system. The manufacturer mislabeled the medication. Instead of five milligram tablets, he's been taking fifty milligrams. Twice a day."

Sam arched a skeptical brow. "And that made him detach from reality?"

"Have you heard of 'Roid Rage? Prednisone is a corticosteroid. He was supposed to be on a very low dosage for a short amount of time. Psychosis is a rare side-effect, but it does happen, especially with large doses. It manifests in different ways, but it can include delusions, memory impairment, depression, agitation, anxiety, and insomnia. To be honest, as bad as what happened was, it could have been so much worse."

Sheppard ran his hands through his hair. "Will he get better?"

"Ninety percent recover completely. We've started him on a low dose of Mellaril which should speed up the process."

"How long?" he asked.

Jennifer shrugged. "Anywhere from a week to a month. Maybe longer. The delusions should be the first to go, but the other symptoms may linger. I'm going to leave him sedated for the next couple of days to give the medicine a chance to work." She looked at John seriously. "You need sleep. Nothing is going to happen here in the next few hours. Go. Now."

He turned to Carter who smiled and said, "That's an order."

A mutinous expression flickered then faded. "Fine," he huffed as he stood and stretched. "Doc, if-"

"I'll notify you immediately if anything changes, Colonel. And tell Ronon I don't want to see him in here either for at least eight hours."

Sheppard nodded wearily and headed out. Sam watched him go then looked at Keller. "Think that will work?"

"Nope. They'll come back bruised and bleeding from beating the crap out of each other in the gym. But maybe it will be cathartic in that guy kind of way so they can accept what happened and move on."

"Is Rodney really going to recover?"

"As stubborn as that man is?" Jennifer responded with a grin. "He's a lot tougher than he lets on." She glanced at the door that John had exited through. "And he has a great team."

"Sometimes that makes all the difference."

oOo

When he was a small child, he had found a cocoon in his backyard. He studied it, examined it at the same time each day to see if his teacher had really known what she was talking about. One day, the cocoon began to wiggle and split apart as the butterfly inside struggled to get out. Rodney had never considered himself to be a butterfly, but he was beginning to understand why it had taken so long for it to escape. His mind seemed to be wrapped in layers, smothering under the weight of… something he couldn't identify. As soon as he fought through one layer, he was trapped by another.

His sense of time was gone. He didn't know whether he'd been fighting for hours or days or months. When he tired, he stopped. But boredom, restlessness, a sense of needing to _do_ pushed him to keep trying. And then his hearing returned.

"Nothing new from any of our contacts." The voice was a low rumble, familiar but flitted just outside his grasp. "Did the Doc say how much longer?"

"Damnit. Where can he have taken her?" This voice was more familiar, sadder. "Keller decreased the sedation. He should wake up in a day or two."

The layers were snatching at him again, and he was so tired. He let them catch him and drag him under.

xxx

He kicked at the cocoon holding him and floated upward. A strong sterile scent greeted him, and slowly his brain supplied a word: infirmary. A sound he eventually recognized as snoring gave him something to latch onto, and he pulled himself toward it, bit by bit until his eyelids cracked open. A man who hadn't seen a razor in a while was sprawled in a chair next to him, wild hair sticking up in every direction. Bruises around one eye were fading, and the lines on his forehead and around his eyes and mouth were pronounced. McKay concentrated until a name popped in his head.

"Sheppard?"

The man jerked awake and gaped at him. "Rodney?" A big grin split his face. "Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?"

McKay blinked slowly at him, swiping at the mental cobwebs that threatened to pull him under again. "What happened?"

A muscle in John's jaw jumped. "You had a reaction to a drug. What do you remember?"

"Um, not much. Everything's fuzzy."

"Your words are slurring. Let me get Keller before you fall asleep again."

He leapt up and disappeared around a corner, shouting. In a moment, he returned with a pretty woman in tow. Her gaze flicked over the monitors then settled on him.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fuzzy. Like I told him." His nose began to throb, but when he tried to reach for his face, his arm wouldn't move. Glancing down, he found black bands around his wrists. Heart pounding, he tugged for all he was worth, which wasn't much at the moment. The woman traded a glance with John then grabbed at the restraints.

"Let me take these off."

"Why were they on?"

That secretive glance again. "What do you remember?"

The cobwebs were gaining on him. "What is this? Twenty questions?"

They both laughed, and a weight seemed to lift from John. "It's one question, McKay."

"I've already answered it." He was losing the fight and finally surrendered. He fell asleep still trying to figure out who the woman was.

xxx

Surfacing was easier every time he did it, the layers thinner and fewer, the gaps in his memory smaller, and he didn't have to struggle for names anymore. And every time he woke up, a familiar face was sitting next to him. Sometimes that was the only thing that kept him going because wakefulness had its downside as well – anxiety attacks so fierce he hyperventilated until he passed out, deep depression one minute and hypomania the next. Sometimes Carson and Elizabeth would drop by and chat for hours only to vanish before his eyes, leaving someone – typically Sheppard or Keller – gazing sadly at him.

He knew they were keeping something from him. When he asked why he was in the infirmary, he received vague answers about a bad reaction to a drug, never specifics. John's black eye was almost gone as was the bruising on his own face yet when he asked what had happened, that secretive glance reappeared.

His brain might not be firing on all cylinders, but he was still Meredith Rodney McKay, PhD times two and certified genius. One night when his insomnia was particularly bad, he crept into the infirmary office area and absconded with Keller's laptop. Scuttling to a supply closet, he locked himself in and started hacking. Pleased that his brilliance was still intact, he cracked her password in forty-three seconds and skimmed effortlessly through her files until he located a personal log with his name in parentheses.

_Day Eight_

_Canceled suicide watch. No delusions in twenty-four hours._

Suicide watch? Him? He scrolled back a few pages.

_Day Four_

_Today's hallucination lasted three hours followed by a massive anxiety attack which resulted in a deep depressive state._

All this from a drug reaction? What had actually happened? He scanned down until he found the first entry.

_Day One_

_Med team called to stasis chamber at 17:00. Patient found in altered state, paranoid and violent._

Panic fluttered in his chest, not the irrational, debilitating kind of the past few days, but the more familiar I-am-so-screwed type. Checking the date and time again, he logged on to the network and brought up the security feed from the stasis chamber.

And stared in horror.

He looked insane – wild-eyed, frantic, clothes and hair in disarray, appearing much like he had when he had returned hyped up on Wraith enzyme. Thankfully this was video only because he really didn't want to know what he had said to make John flinch like that. When the fighting started, he shut down the feed, returned the computer, and crawled back in bed. Rolling onto his side, he curled into a fetal position and pulled the sheet over his head.

But the depression he had been expecting didn't come. After the shock of seeing himself like that dissipated, he got mad. Royally, unequivocally pissed that they would dare to hide his obvious meltdown from him. He would have given them a piece of his mind, but he didn't have any left to give.

They had to send him back to Earth. Someone who had lost his grip on reality couldn't possibly be entrusted with the safety and security of Atlantis. He would be locked away and referred to as the Crazy Canadian who Cracked under the Pressure. Jeannie might visit, but otherwise he would be alone in a small white room with no windows and no freedom, and he was suddenly terrified. Did they know he was claustrophobic? Would they care?

The heart monitor beeped erratically as scenarios bounced around in his head, each one worse than the last. How could this have happened? Why him? Why why why why WHY?

"McKay?"

He squealed, in a manly way, and bolted upright when Ronon called his name.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Me? Nothing. Not a thing. What would make you think something was wrong with me? Just because I lost my mind and attacked Sheppard in the middle of the stasis chamber?" The anger had returned and brought shouting with it.

Ronon regarded him silently for a moment then slouched in a chair and propped his feet on the bed. "Heard about that."

"That's all you have to say?"

"Yeah."

"You realize what this means, right?"

"You finally got the chance to beat the crap out of Sheppard without him hitting back?"

"That's not funny," Rodney snapped.

"And you haven't lost your mind. The drug made you do it."

"What do you know about it?"

Ronon folded his arms. "I had Keller explain it to me. It caused the chemicals in your brain to not work right, but she gave you something to fix it."

"You- you didn't see what I did." McKay squeezed his eyes shut as the image replayed in his mind. "I watched the security feed."

"Did the Doc or Sheppard know about that?"

"No," Rodney huffed, "and there's no reason for you to tell them. I have to be crazy. Why else would they hide it from me?"

"They wanted to wait until you had recovered enough to know the truth. Sheppard has been trying to figure out how to tell you. He blames himself."

"What? Why?"

"Ask him."

"Yeah, because he's always so forthcoming." McKay paused. "He really thinks this is his fault?"

"Yeah. Just like he thinks Teyla going missing is his fault."

"Ah. Atlas syndrome."

Ronon quirked a brow. "Atlas?"

"Mythological story of a guy who was condemned to carry the world on his shoulders. Sheppard has a tendency to do the same."

"And you don't?"

"Of course not, well, maybe sometimes, but only when…. Damn."

Chuckling, Ronon pushed the chair away and clapped Rodney on the shoulder. "You aren't crazy, well, not any crazier than you were before. Get some sleep. And stop hiding in the supply closet."

"How did you know-" But the doors slid shut behind him.

McKay stared at the ceiling until the first rays of dawn began to filter in.

Xxx

He had planned to ask Keller about what had happened, but when he woke up late in the day, Sheppard was sitting beside him, munching on a sandwich while he pecked at a keyboard. It had taken a bit of time, but Rodney had finally learned how to read John. And either the past year had taken so much out of Sheppard that he'd lost the ability to hide what he really thought or he had grown comfortable enough around his team to let them see.

"Hey."

John glanced up in surprise. "Hey yourself. Did you get enough beauty sleep?"

"You're one to talk. When was the last time you actually saw your quarters?"

With a tired grin, Sheppard handed him a tray with a sandwich and a cup of water. "Sometime last year, I think. Hungry?"

Grabbing the bed controls, McKay raised the head until he was sitting upright. "Starved." He took a huge, wonderful bite. "What are you doing?"

"Rotating the teams going to the worlds where the Hoffan drug has been released. I don't want anyone spending too much time around it."

"Any news on Teyla?"

"No," John said glumly. "Wherever Michael took her, he really covered his tracks."

"We'll find her."

"I don't think we have a lot of time left." Sheppard closed the laptop. "How are you feeling?"

Rodney put his food down and looked John in the eye. "Did I really have a reaction to a drug?"

Sheppard's head tilted, and his brows drew together in confusion. "As opposed to?"

"Having a nervous breakdown."

"Ah." John met his gaze, eyes clear. "Yes. You really had a drug reaction."

"OK." He took another bite of his sandwich. "Wanna play chess?"

"Sure."

xxx

The next few days flew by. Ronon and Sheppard were off-world following a lead on Teyla when McKay was released to his quarters. By the time they returned, he was buried in a gate operating system update filled with glitches. He and Sheppard met in the mess hall when they could to continue their never-ending chess match.

"What did you just do?" Rodney demanded.

"Beat you again," John retorted with a grin.

"Kamikaze chess? Do you understand the concept behind this game?"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?"

"Once. Never again."

McKay set up the pieces, and John glanced at his watch.

"I've got to go. A Genii contact wants to meet on M4S-587. He claims to have intel on Teyla."

"Keller hasn't released me to go off-world yet, and Ronon's gone to Belka to talk to Mattas again."

Sheppard stood. "I know. Lorne's team is backing me up."

"But it's the Genii."

"It's for Teyla."

Rodney heaved a sigh. "You're right. Good luck."

John waved. "See you later."

McKay finished setting up the chess pieces and wandered to the control room. Plenty of time to play chess when Sheppard came back.


	24. Remembrance

_A/N: Set before The Kindred. Possible S4 spoilers to that point._

**Remembrance**

"Just bring it in…. Easy! Don't drop it! Good…. There. Put it there. No, over there. Don't they teach you how to follow directions in soldier school?"

"Knock it off, McKay," John warned.

A wet-behind-the-ears sergeant shot him a look of gratitude as he hauled a man-sized box into the rec room and placed it in the spot indicated. Sheppard pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against and clapped the young man on the shoulder.

"Pay no attention to the rude scientist, Phillips. His people skills were removed at birth. Thanks for delivering this."

The fair-haired sergeant blushed at the attention. "Y-y-yes, Sir!" He ducked out the door as Ronon came through with a maintenance toolkit.

"This what you wanted, McKay?"

Glancing up from the box he was slowly ripping open, Rodney nodded. "Yeah. Give me a hand with this."

John gave them a wide berth as McKay attacked the cardboard with a box cutter. "What is that?"

"It's a gift from Jeannie."

"Cookies?" Ronon asked hopefully. "The ones with the bits of chocolate in them?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "In a six-foot box? Are you kidding?"

"A man can hope," John replied. "Your sister makes the best cookies. I like the oatmeal raisin."

An unexpected flash of pride crossed McKay's face. "Do you have any idea how many it would take to fill a box this size? Madison would be in high school before she finished. Now, quit thinking with your stomachs and help me before she gets here."

John squatted next to him. "Pot, kettle and all that. And before who gets here?"

"Teyla. It's a baby present for her."

Once they finally got the packaging open, John recognized rockers in the midst of the wood and upholstery. "A rocking chair?"

"Yep." McKay sorted the pieces as Ronon pulled them from the box. "Jeannie said that while the amenities here were unparalleled, there wasn't a chair in this city fit for a pregnant woman much less a nursing mother." His ears pinked a bit. "So she sent this. I figure we can move it to Teyla's quarters after the baby is born if she'd rather, you know, have _privacy_."

They spent the better part of an hour assembling the gliding rocker and matching footstool. Ronon had just returned from disposing of the box remnants when Teyla appeared.

"Am I late? I thought the time for… the movie…. What is that?"

Rodney grabbed her hand and pulled her to the rocker. "It's a gift from Jeannie. For you."

She sat carefully and smiled in delight as the chair glided smoothly backward. "This is wonderful." Blinking moist eyes, she squeezed Rodney's arm. "Please thank her for me." She propped her feet on the footstool and giggled as it moved in time with the chair then snuggled into the cushioned back and seat.

Ronon picked the movie, "Gladiator again?" McKay whined, and they settled down for an afternoon off. Since they'd defeated the replicators, the galaxy had been relatively quiet. Other than the dearth of intel on the still-missing Athosians, things were good.

Two and a half hours later, John pulled the DVD from the player and returned it to its casing while Ronon and Rodney cleaned up the beer bottles and spilled potato chips.

"I told you-"

"Shhh. Teyla's asleep," Ronon murmured.

John turned at the warning, a ghost of a memory brushing his mind when he caught sight of Teyla. Something in her posture – head tilted to the left as she reclined, relaxed in sleep, both hands resting on her abdomen. Her hair was loose and obscured the right side of her face. Frowning, he concentrated, not realizing he was staring until McKay spoke up.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."

And it came to him, blindingly clear. He sank onto the sofa, never taking his eyes off her.

"My mother used to sit just like that when she was pregnant with Dave."

oOo

"Boy, how many times have I told you to be quiet? Your mother's sleeping."

John buzzed the airplane to a safe landing at half-volume. "But she's always sleeping, Daddy."

Patrick Sheppard scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "I know, Johnny." He took a seat in the large wingback chair and gazed fondly at his heavily pregnant wife. "Come here," he said, patting a knee. "I want to talk to you for a minute."

Scurrying to his dad's side, he crawled into his lap in delight. Daddy rarely had time for him these days.

"I need you to listen very carefully. Your mom is… sick."

"I thought Mommy was having a baby."

"She is, but she's also sick."

"I know where the band-aids are. Can I kiss it and make it better?"

His dad ruffled his hair. "Not this time, buddy. The sickness is inside her."

"Can Dr. Pete fix her?"

"No, Johnny. Mommy's sickness can't be fixed until after the baby is born. The radiation… the medicine would hurt the baby."

"Oh." He looked from his father's face to his mother. She sat in her favorite rocker, hair sweeping over her face, her hands folded on top of her belly. Something wet splashed on his neck, but when he turned back to his dad, he didn't see any tears. "But she'll get better after, right?"

Patrick's eyes strayed to the sleeping woman. "I hope so." He set John down and swatted him lightly. "Now, play quietly."

"Yes, sir."

His dad went to his home office while John flew his bi-wing through the den, careful to not wake his mother. When he tired of that, he climbed the stairs to his bedroom and found his favorite picture book about Max and the land of the Wild Things. Clomping back down stairs, he sat next to the rocker and leaned until his back rested against her leg.

"What are you reading, Johnny?"

He jerked guiltily. "I didn't mean to wake you, Mommy."

"You didn't." She rubbed her hands lovingly over her belly and stood up awkwardly. "Why don't we sit on the sofa so I can read it too?"

Grinning, he hopped up and followed, wriggling close to her side and handing her the book. He recited his favorite parts along with her, laying his head on her belly. He pulled away in surprise as something thumped his head.

"What is that, Mommy?" He stared as a bump appeared on her stomach and disappeared.

She laughed and held his hand to it, and he felt the thump again. "The baby's kicking. He's saying hello."

He pressed his face to the bump and called loudly, "Hello!" Giggling, he rubbed his nose as the baby kicked again. "I think he likes me."

His mom cupped his face in her hands. "Of course he does. What's not to like?"

"I always wanted a brother. Ever since I was little."

"Well, you might get a sister."

"Ewww. If we do, can we take her back and get a brother?"

"That's not how it works. You'll be a great big brother whether it's a boy or a girl."

He laid his head on her belly again. "Did the baby make you sick?"

"Of course not. What would make you think that?"

John shrugged. "Daddy said you couldn't get better until after the baby came."

"Oh, Johnny." She kissed the top of his head. "The baby has nothing to do with being sick. I just have to wait until after he's born in order to take the medicine. I'll be fine. You'll see."

oOo

"But she wasn't. She died six weeks after Dave was born."

"How old were you?" Rodney asked quietly.

"Four." John sighed and scrubbed a hand over his neck. "I hardly have any memories of her, but I remember her sitting just like that for hours at a time." His face flushed as he suddenly realized how much he'd shared. Damn beer.

Ronon took the DVD from him and slid it on the shelf. "I don't remember my mother ever sitting down when I was young. Probably because I had three older brothers."

"There were three more like you?" Rodney looked horrified.

"If you mean handsome warriors like me, yes." He laughed at McKay's sour expression. "My mother wasn't afraid of anything. She was the strongest person I've ever known."

oOo

"Do not speak of it again, Ronon."

"Father would have let me," he grumbled.

Andressa Dex stirred the soup angrily, counting to ten under her breath. "I doubt he would've let you join the military at fourteen, but he isn't here anymore. I am, and you are not joining."

"You let Larel."

"He is of age as are Gareth and Navot." Setting the spoon down, she wiped her hands on a towel and walked to where he sat slouched at the dining table. "I know you want to fight, and I'm sure you will get your chance, but not yet. You are still a child whether you like it or not. You will finish your schooling first."

Ronon stood, towering over her. She came to the middle of his chest thanks to his early growth spurt, but she had a glare that could strip flesh from bone. Even his father, as big a man as he had been, had known to respect that look.

Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her tightly. "Very well. For now."

She patted his cheek lovingly. "Thank you, my son. Now, if you will put the plates on the table, your brothers will be here soon."

The front door banged open as he finished, his brothers spilling noisily into the small flat. The oldest, Gareth, pulled at the dreadlocks that were just beginning to grow.

"You might become a man yet, little brother."

Ronon shoved him away with a growl.

"Leave him alone," his mother scolded. "He has years to go before the ceremony."

Navot, who could look Ronon in the eye, winked at him then picked their mother up and spun her around.

She swatted at him, laughing. "Put me down this instant or no supper for you."

"Put her down!" Larel called. "I'm starving."

"So am I," added Gareth.

Ronon rolled his eyes. "You're always starving."

Andressa set the pot of soup and a large loaf of bread in the center of the table. As they sat down to eat, Ronon took a minute to watch the faces of his family as they smiled, laughed and enjoyed each other's company, feeling content for the first time since his father had died.

oOo

"It was the last meal we had together. Larel was killed the next day during a training exercise, and my mother was culled a few months later at an off-world market. As tall as I am, no one questioned my age when I joined the military. I had no place else to go anyway."

"What ceremony were you, um…." McKay waved vaguely at him. "You know."

Ronon examined the tip of a dreadlock. "When a boy enters puberty, he grows his hair until the beginning of his second decade. A ceremony is held in which the locks are shaved off by family members." He shrugged a shoulder. "I was a runner by then. Didn't have any family to perform the ceremony. I decided to keep them as a reminder."

"Sounds like you had a hell of a nice family," John said.

"Yeah," Rodney agreed wistfully. "I'm not sure my mom ever cooked a meal in her life."

Sheppard quirked a brow at him. "Oh, come on. Even when you were little?"

"Especially when I was little. Jeannie and I were raised on what she brought home from the university cafeteria. When she remembered. Why do you think I like institutional food so much?"

"Dorm food?" Sheppard grimaced. "That explains a lot about you."

"You don't know the half of it."

oOo

"I'm hungry, Mer," Jeannie whined.

"Me too." He glanced at the clock. "It's almost eight. Put on your pajamas. If she isn't here by the time you're ready for bed, I'll make you something to eat."

"When is Dad coming home?"

"Um, in a couple of days, I think. He said he'd be home for my piano recital on Thursday."

Jeannie pouted all the way to her room while Rodney sketched the rough draft of the model for his science fair exhibit. His head was pounding. Mom hadn't made lunch for them today, and he'd given all his money to his sister so she could eat. He'd searched through the cabinets when they came home, using the last of the bread and a dab of ketchup for a sandwich they split.

When Jeannie returned, bottom lip trembling and Mr. Fluffy gripped tightly in her arms, he rummaged through the kitchen again. He had no idea what to do with a whole frozen chicken, and the ham in the refrigerator had spots on it. At least the box of lasagna noodles had instructions. A few minutes later, he put two sticky pieces on Jeannie's plate and poured her a cup of water.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Lasagna."

"Doesn't look like Grandma's lasagna."

"Then don't eat it."

She made a face but ate every bite of it. "What are we going to do for lunch tomorrow?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll talk to Mom."

Jeannie's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Brush your teeth and go to bed. It's past your bedtime."

"You're not the boss of me."

"Do you want to be up when she gets home?"

"No," Jeannie mumbled. "G'night Mer."

"Goodnight."

His rough draft was almost complete by the time he heard the garage door go up. He hurriedly stuffed his papers in his backpack and ran an eye over the kitchen and den. Everything was in its place. Racing to his room, he tugged his pajamas on, unmade his bed and rolled around in it for a second. Mussing his hair, he slumped his shoulders and shuffled back to the family area.

"Mom?"

"Meredith, dear. Did I wake you?"

The buttons on her blouse weren't done properly, and he could smell the alcohol across the room. "No, ma'am. I had to use the bathroom."

"Well, go back to bed." Greta Reardon turned her back to him and pulled a stack of folders from her bag. "Morons," she muttered as she flipped open the first one. "Not one of them will make a decent scientist."

"Mom."

"I cannot believe the level of stupidity allowed at the undergraduate level these days."

"Mom."

Attacking the project with a red pen, she tossed it aside and picked up the next. "I could have done so much with my life, but instead I'm stuck teaching Intro Physics to idiots."

"Mom." Gritting his teeth, he stepped with her reach. "Mom."

"What!" She slammed down the folder and glared at him. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"My head hurts."

Rolling her eyes, she pushed away from the table and went to her bathroom. While she was gone, he dug rapidly through her purse, snatching a few bills and memorizing her credit card number. She stomped back in the room and thrust a handful of pills at him. "It's probably just a headache, but knowing my luck, you have a brain tumor."

"A brain tumor?"

"It wouldn't surprise me these days with the depletion of the ozone. The sun's radiation is lethal, remember?"

He dry-swallowed two pills and stuffed the rest in the pocket with the cash. "Yes, ma'am."

She flopped back in her chair and picked up her pen. "Another loser. Pathetic."

"Mom."

"How the world continues to function with this level of incompetence is nothing short of miraculous."

"Mom."

"Not another word."

Rodney shifted from one foot to the other. "But there isn't anything to-"

"Do you not ever shut up?" Her voice was low and furious. "I've told you twice to go to bed, and you continue to disobey." She laid the pen down carefully and stood.

"I'm sorry. I'm going. Right now." He backpedaled quickly as she came toward him.

"This is your fault. Your father is gone all the time, and I'm stuck here in this crappy house working at a university with no prestige because of you. One mistake and my life is ruined forever."

Rodney knew better than to cry. He withdrew into himself until her tirade ended then silently retreated to his room.

oOo

He unconsciously brushed his fingers down the side of his face. "She left six months later. We never heard from her again."

"God, Rodney," John whispered. "I had no idea."

McKay stared at his hands for a long moment, his expression naked, and gave a half-shrug. "No reason you should. We don't talk about it."

"What happened to her?" Ronon asked.

Rodney's face twisted bitterly. "Last I heard, she was teaching at Cal Tech. I lost track when I was sent to Russia, and I've been a little outside the normal scientific circles since then."

"I wonder how my child will view me," Teyla murmured, smiling as they whirled in surprise. "Will I be a distant memory or a treasured one or one best forgotten?"

"Do you really think you won't be a great mom?"

"I hope to be, Rodney, but my son may not think so."

"Don't worry," Ronon said. "We'll make sure he does."

"You'll be terrific. You've had plenty of practice with us," John added.

"That is very true," Teyla laughed. "My mother often said the best sign of a good leader is the ability to control the uncontrollable."

oOo

"Will we ever be free of the Wraith?" Teyla asked.

Velana Rel Ka-Emmagan ran her hands through her daughter's hair, separating the strands to plait them. "Perhaps one day. We must never give up hope."

"What good is hope against such an enemy?"

Her mother paused for a moment. "Sometimes hope is all we have. As long as one Athosian draws breath, the Wraith have not won. The birth of a child is an act of defiance itself. We will not surrender to them."

"Instead we continue to supply them with food."

Moving to kneel in front of her, Velana frowned as she took her hand. "Where has such an attitude come from?"

"Kanaan said-"

"Kanaan will not be the next leader of the Athosians."

Teyla pulled her hand away. "There is no guarantee that I will be. Kanaan has The Gift as strongly as I."

Her mother grasped her chin. "Having The Gift does not make you a leader, especially a good one. It takes strength of character, an ability to put others before yourself, a desire to choose right over easy, establishing control in the midst of chaos." Standing, she moved behind Teyla and resumed braiding. "Leadership will fall to you, Daughter, but hopefully not any time soon. Ten seasons is not a sufficient childhood."

"Will I be a good leader?"

Velana banded the plait and moved to sit next to her. "You already are. Have you never noticed your playmates looking to you?"

"Not really."

She put her arm around Teyla and pulled her close. "They do. You have earned their respect by giving it to all you encounter. Continue to do so. Give great consideration to whom your counselors will be. Seek wisdom. Listen to all viewpoints but always do what is best for our people."

"Were you disappointed not to be chosen?"

Velana laughed gently. "Who do you think helped your father to become the great leader he is?" She tickled Teyla playfully, and they giggled together. "Do not tell him I said that. The people made their decision, and a good one in my opinion. Your father is firm but fair in all of his dealings and is willing to spend long, tedious hours on trade negotiations. I do not envy him."

"But you would have been a good leader."

"Perhaps. But I do not have the patience for it. I am content to be on the Council. I also happen to be fond of being your mother."

Teyla considered her words. "Will I have to choose?"

"Choose what?"

"Between being a leader and a mother."

"Remember first that a mother is a leader, but no, I do not believe that you will have to choose between being the leader of the Athosians and being a mother. Our people will be here to support you, to care for your children when you are called away. If the threat of the Wraith has any benefit, it is to remind us of the preciousness of each life. We care for every child as our own. We will do so for yours as well."

oOo

Teyla stroked her thumb over the spot where her son kicked. "I was not there for them, and now they are not here for me."

"We'll find them," John promised. "We won't stop looking."

Ronon grinned. "And you have us. He'll be in good hands.

"I can only imagine what you'll teach him," Rodney muttered. "A thousand ways to use a knife."

"At least that's useful," Ronon shot back. "What will you teach him? How to talk a Wraith to death?"

"Oh. Ha. You wound me with such wit."

Sheppard rolled his eyes, and Teyla laughed at their antics. They made life much more bearable. Most of the time.

"What happened to your mom?" John's voice was low, but Rodney and Ronon both turned at the question.

Smiling sadly, Teyla sighed. "When I was thirteen, she was injured in a rock slide. We did not have sufficient medical knowledge to save her. She died a few days later." Pulling herself from the memory, she pushed on the chair's arms and slowly stood. "I believe it is time for dinner. I have heard a rumor that we are having Tuna Surprise."

Rodney grinned in delight. "That's one of my favorites."

"There's a shocker," John retorted. "You have a cast iron stomach."

"Better than a cast iron head."

Ronon snorted. "You have one of those too, McKay."

Teyla giggled as they continued to trade barbs. They might not be Athosian, but they were just as much her family. Glancing back one last time at the rocking chair, she smoothed her hands over her rounded belly.

"You have been blessed, my son."

* * *

_Written for the Family Challenge on sgaflashfic LJ community._


	25. Just Another Day at the Office

_A/N: Only a small S4 casting spoiler here._

**Just Another Day at the Office**

"Come on, Doc. We've got to move."

Lorne gripped his P-90 with one hand and the back of Zelenka's vest with the other, half-pulling and half-dragging the man as they raced to the gate.

"I am… moving," Radek panted. "This is… top speed."

Moonlight filtered through a break in the clouds, illumining the hard-packed dirt path that led from the stargate to the Ancient ruins they'd been investigating. The shriek of a Wraith dart overhead intensified, and Evan veered sharply left, knocking Radek into the shoulder-high sea of prairie grass and diving in after him. Culling beams flashed around them, one skimming the muzzle of his gun as they scuttled further into the cover.

"Rodriguez, can you get to the gate?"

"_Not leaving you behind, Sir_."

"Of course, you aren't, Captain. You're going to get the cavalry. When you get to Atlantis, dial back to prevent any more darts from coming through. Bring a couple of jumpers with you when you return. The doc and I will be waiting for you in the ruins."

"_Sir, it only takes one of us-_"

"No arguments. Go, all of you, and that's an order."

"_Yes, Sir._"

Rodriguez didn't sound happy, but a minute later the area was lit in stargate blue. The dart banked immediately but not in time. Lorne grinned in satisfaction as the life signs detector showed three dots vanish into the large energy vortex.

Crouching, he hovered over Zelenka, P-90 at ready. "How are you doing there, Doc?"

Radek groaned and rolled onto his back. "I have been better."

"Perhaps you should consider a little more time on the treadmill."

"Perhaps you could refrain from signaling Wraith next time you force me to come off-world."

"Hey, I just asked for a scientist. Not my fault McKay was on New Athos for Teyla's birthday. And I didn't intentionally signal the Wraith."

Slowly sitting up, Zelenka straightened his glasses then brushed the dirt and grass from his hair. "No, you touched Ancient device that sent signal."

"How was I supposed to know the Wraith reprogrammed it?"

"I said 'do not touch'."

"You shouted at me in Czech. The only Czech I understand is references to questionable parentage and reproductive practices."

"Oh." Zelenka's shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his forehead and pushed his glasses up again. "I am… I- I don't…." He sighed heavily. "I prefer my lab."

"I bet you do." Lorne kept his head low as the dart made another pass. "Don't worry, Doc. We'll be out of here in no time." He searched the night sky, able to hear the whine of the dart's engines but unable to spot it against the cloud cover. "Let's head back to the ruins."

They wound through the meadow, paralleling the path and pausing when the dart neared. The terrain sloped as they neared the crumbling buildings, the grass giving way to rock and silt. Sprinting once they were in the open, they dodged another culling beam and fell through the door of the only building still standing. The lights flickered on as they skidded to a stop.

"Can you seal the door? I don't want any uninvited guests dropping in."

"I am working on doing so." Zelenka flinched as dart weaponsfire hit nearby but clipped the last laptop connector to the crystal array and typed a few quick commands. The door controls glowed briefly. "There. Is done."

"Hopefully that will hold them until back-up gets here but check the database anyway. See if this place has any kind of defensive capabilities."

Lorne studied the cavernous room. It was eerily empty other than the bank of consoles in the alcove near the door where Radek was working. The walls were covered in thousands of tiny sensors, but he couldn't find the source of the room's light, the ceiling disappearing in darkness.

"Hmmm, that's odd," Zelenka mumbled. "Why would-"

A blinding flash filled the room, and Evan suddenly found himself on the bridge of an Aurora-class battleship. An explosion nearby tossed him sideways, and flames leapt from the navigation controls.

"Shit! Radek! Where are you?"

"Here!" a voice called from behind him.

Whirling, Lorne found nothing but more unmanned stations. "Where?"

"Right here. I have not moved."

"Well, I have! I'm on the bridge of a ship that the Wraith are pounding the hell out of." He ducked instinctively as the viewscreen showed a hive ship coming straight at him in a frightening game of chicken only to swerve at the last minute, shooting multiple blasts as it flew over. "What did you do?"

"Oh, wow," Radek breathed.

Evan spun around again and gaped as Zelenka's head floated over the environmental controls.

"I will never let Rodney live this down," he murmured. "I have found holodeck." He blinked at Lorne then looked down. "Oh! Computer, end program." He sighed after a beat. "Always works on Star Trek." Then his head vanished.

"Doc!" Had to be a nightmare. He just thought he'd taken a routine trip off-world today. His vision whited out again, and he was back in the original room, Zelenka standing exactly where he'd left him and grinning like a fool. "What the hell just happened?"

"It is a simulator, a training tool, I believe. You did not leave room."

"I was standing-"

"Right here. You simply thought you were somewhere else."

"I could feel the ship rock, smell the burnt wiring."

Radek's silly grin broadened. "Very impressive."

The room shook, scattering ten thousand years worth of accumulated dust.

"Another simulation?" Evan hoped.

Zelenka glanced at his laptop. "No."

Blue energy skittered across the door, the metal bulging inward. Grabbing Radek's arm, Lorne jerked him to the floor and covered him as current arced in every direction and danced over the consoles. Lights strobed, and the room rippled, giving piecemeal glimpses of ship interiors, Ancient cities, a beach, a snow-capped mountain, numerous battlefields – sometimes several scenes at once.

"Uh oh," Zelenka muttered.

"You know, there are three things that scare me: gerbils, Teyla when she's really pissed, and a scientist saying 'uh oh'. What's wrong?"

Radek angled the laptop in his direction. Jumbled text in at least eight different languages zigzagged across the screen underneath an error message which read:

_This program has performed an illegal operation and will be shut down. If the problem persists, please contact the program vendor._

The room plunged into darkness then sprang back to life.

"Are you kidding me?" Lorne shouted as sparks shot from the main console and raced down the connectors.

Zelenka cried out as the computer sizzled in his hands. Evan swung his P-90 like a baseball bat, and the laptop flew across the room, smashing against a wall. The projected landscapes spun crazily, and they found themselves huddled behind a pillar in a hallway similar to those in Atlantis. People screamed as they staggered and dropped when Wraith stun blasts enveloped them.

A woman crumpled next to them, and Lorne automatically reached for her, surprised when he encountered solid flesh. He dragged her behind the pillar as a drone rounded the corner. It stopped to feed on the man slumped against the opposite wall then moved on to the next one. When it finally left, he heard Radek gagging behind him. Pressing his fingers to the woman's carotid, he was relieved and a bit unnerved to feel a steady pulse pounding there.

"You OK, Doc?" he whispered.

"I have never seen…. Is that what it's really like?"

"Yeah. At least he was unconscious. It's worse when they scream." Evan pulled his LSD from a pocket. Two dots. "It's so real. Will the Wraith be fooled by this?"

"Perhaps. I can see it so we know it isn't limited to the ATA gene." Zelenka's voice was laced with pain.

"Let me see your hands."

Radek didn't bother to hide the shaking. His palms were a fiery red, and blisters were already forming. Pulling gauze from his vest, Lorne wrapped the sterile dressings carefully over the burns, tying them off at the wrist.

"Keller will fix you up when we get back. Probably won't even scar." Footsteps approached, and Evan checked the LSD again. Still only two dots. "What will happen if one of those Wraith touch us?"

"I don't know. Probably nothing, but I cannot guarantee it. This is a training simulator. It may allow for the experience."

"That is not what I wanted to hear."

He ducked as two male warriors strode down the hallway toward them. The woman stirred next to him and blinked slowly. He clamped a hand over her mouth and brought his index finger to his lips. Her eyes widened, but she didn't move or speak. After the area cleared, he sat back.

"I'm Evan. Can you understand me?"

She nodded, scooting outside his reach. Her eyes flitted over his uniform, and she slowly backed away then ran across the hall and disappeared into a room.

"Well, that was weird."

"She isn't real, Major."

"I know. That's why it was weird."

"How much longer until the jumpers get here?" Zelenka asked.

He glanced at his watch with a frown. "Should have already been here by now." He clicked his radio. "This is Lorne. Anybody read?"

Static greeted him.

"It is possible the holograms are interfering with outside communication," Radek offered.

"Oh, that's perfect. So I have no idea who's going to come through those doors when they open."

"Well, there is one-"

The hallway upended, and vertigo washed over Evan as he fell through space to land with a thud in the middle of a desert. He staggered to his feet only to drop again as the world tilted to deposit him in a primitive village.

"So sorry!" Zelenka babbled as he backed hurriedly from a tent, blushing.

"Radek?"

"Major, the Ancients had a very strange sense of humor."

"You're telling me. Damn, it's hot. I guess they wanted to prepare for every situation."

It felt like Florida in August, sticky and gross. A full moon shone, and the fire that lit the center of the village added to the shadows that danced around them.

"That is understatement," Zelenka mumbled, red to the tips of his ears.

"What was in that tent?"

"Never mind."

Lorne trailed a hand over the fabric – heavy and nubby. The village was quiet, no one stirring, the stench of livestock and dung hanging heavy in the air. "Do you think this turned into the VE of the stasis pods or vice versa?"

Kneeling at the fire, Radek poked at it with a stick. "I believe the pods came first. I do not think we are sitting immobile in that room. Somehow this science allows us to actually interact with the virtual environment instead of just experiencing it in our minds."

The groan of unseen metal jerked them back to reality. The LSD revealed two additional dots close by.

"Hide!"

They dove through the opening of a tent and came face to face with a sleepy little boy. Staring at them, his bottom lip began to tremble.

"Oh, no, no, no. Hey, little guy," Lorne soothed. "You're dreaming. Go back to sleep." The boy closed his eyes as Evan tucked a blanket around his shoulders. "Good man." He moved next to Radek at the entrance. "I just convinced a hologram to go to sleep so the life sucking aliens wouldn't find us. I love my job."

Then the world shifted again, and he was lying face down in the surf of the most perfect beach he'd ever seen. Blinding white sand stretched for miles in each direction, and the ocean shimmered from aquamarine to indigo. Palm trees waved in the floral and brine scented breeze while a hut nearby offered shade. The only things out of place were the two Wraith standing in the middle of it.

Lorne flipped onto his back and rolled to his feet in a smooth motion. "Doc?"

"Over here." A hand waved from behind a palm tree.

"Sit tight." He brought his P-90 up and aimed. Several dozen bullets later, the Wraith lay splayed in the sand, their black blood in disgusting contrast to the pristine beach. He checked the LSD again and grimaced as three new dots took up defensive positions outside the building and two others approached. He shoved the device in his pocket and braced his weapon against his shoulder.

"Do not shoot, Major. My scanner is picking up the sub-cu transmitters of your team plus Rodney and Col. Sheppard."

"Really? You're sure?" At Zelenka's nod, he glanced around the area with a grin. "Get over here."

As Radek made his way to the hut, Lorne dragged the Wraith bodies a short distance away and kicked sand over the blood splatter. He found cups and a bottle of a clear brown liquid in the hut.

"Have a seat, Doc." He poured them both a drink, one hand straying to his gun until the strident tones of Rodney McKay reached his ears. He sat quickly and raised his glass. "Cheers."

"What the hell- Radek, what are you doing?"

Holding a straight face, Zelenka sipped his drink, glancing over the rim at McKay. "Enjoying the beach. What are you doing?"

"There was a dart and Wraith and…. Where are we?" Rodney asked.

"Holodeck."

"You did not- This is so unfair. I get captured by Wraith and thrown into cocoons or a holding cell. You get a beach on a holodeck?"

As the two scientists sniped at each other, Lorne grinned at his CO. "Good to see you, Sir. How was the birthday party?"

"Very nice. Gotta remember to go easy on that Ruus wine though. Hell of a kick. Interesting mission?"

"Oh, you know, Sir. Just another day at the office."

"Ah. Well, as long as there wasn't any trouble. Ready to go home?"

Evan finished his drink and stood, wondering if Keller would find anything in his system. "Yes, Sir."

"How do we get out of here?"

Radek's head poked through the hut's back wall. "This way, Colonel."

Blinking as Zelenka disappeared, Sheppard arched a brow at Lorne. "That was different."

Laughing, Evan followed him through the wall. He really did love his job.

* * *

_Written for the sgagenficathon. Prompt: illegal, secondary characters._


	26. I Think, Therefore I Am

_A/N: Set shortly after Reunion. Spoilers for that ep._

**I Think, Therefore I Am**

He cracked his lids open and groaned in agony. _Exactly how many of his precious brain cells did he kill last night?_ Breathing through his nose, he waited until the carousel stopped before sitting up and blinking blearily at his surroundings. Spacious room, a bit Gothic for his tastes and in desperate need of a paint job and new curtains, books everywhere – on the shelves, on the mantle, on the table next to his pack and tablet. His clothes were folded neatly over an armchair with his….

Clothes?

Peeking under the scratchy woolen blanket and unbelievably soft sheets – seriously, he was going to have to get a set of these – he was horrified to discover he was wearing only boxers, the ones he'd sworn to never wear off-world in case something like this happened. But he hadn't had time for laundry lately, and he'd thrown these on in a rush. He couldn't decide which of his teammates he hoped had been the one to get him to bed. Sheppard would never let him live it down, Ronon either since the Satedan had been warped by the influence of certain military types. Teyla would be the most discreet, but the idea of her stripping his clothes off made him blush down to his toes.

With a sigh, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and concentrated on not throwing up as he slowly stood, wrapping the blanket firmly around his chest and hiking it up to his armpits. Tottering across the hardwood floor he tugged his t-shirt over his aching head but had to sit down to slide on his trousers, socks and shoes. Shrugging into his jacket and tac vest, he patted down the pockets for his radio but came up empty. He dug through his backpack and tablet case with the same results. When he realized his guns were also missing, he slumped over the table. He was so screwed.

Coffee. He needed coffee now, and not that instant crap Sheppard drank.

Sheppard…. The thought shaped itself into a warning.

Where was his team?

For one split second, he wondered if they had abandoned him, if he'd done something so incredibly stupid last night that they'd left him here. Betrayal shot through him with the force of a sledgehammer, and he tried not to gag as bile rose in the back of his throat. Then the moment passed as he remembered that this was his team not his parents. Sheppard and Ronon had held him as he puked his guts out after Carson's wake; Teyla had pressed her forehead to his when he returned from Earth, gripping his shoulders tightly as her tears ran down his face. They wouldn't leave him behind.

He could trust them. He _did_ trust them.

Something was wrong.

Rushing across the room, he pulled the heavy wooden door open, squealing in a manly way as the steward materialized in front of him. Short, thin, balding, bland expression – utterly forgettable.

"Good morning, Doctor Rodney McKay," he intoned in the stilted, slightly accented way of the Otalpans.

"Yes. Hello, um…. Gollum."

"Gassep Lucilious Andrek, sir."

"Oh, of course, silly me. How could I possibly forget that? Gassep Lush… Loose, um…."

"Gassep is fine, sir."

Waving one hand vaguely, he nodded. "Sorry. Bit of a headache today."

"Perhaps something to eat?"

"No!" He blew out a breath as his stomach threatened to turn itself inside out. "No, thank you. Could you tell me where the others are?"

"Most of the Seekers are finishing morning repast, but some have gathered at the Telling Stone. They are eagerly awaiting your arrival."

"I meant my team. Where are they?"

Gallop stared blankly at him. "Your team?"

This Otalpan must have been on the remedial Seeker path. "Yes. My team. The three people I came with. Hard to miss. Big man with long hair, grunts a lot. Short, pretty woman who can kill you with a stick. Another guy with messy hair, wearing all black. Ring any bells?"

"My apologies, Doctor Rodney McKay. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, Specialist Ronon Dex, and Teyla Emmagan departed last night."

"You're lying. They wouldn't leave me behind. Where are they?"

"I have told you-"

"I'm not going to ask you again," Rodney warned in Sheppard's soft, dangerous tone and added a feral Ronon scowl for good measure.

Gossip took a step backward. "Perhaps you should speak with Naya Thellus Dolnarel. If you would like to wait here, I shall summon her."

"No, I would not like to wait here," he snapped with the acidity he reserved for the insanely incompetent. "My team is missing, and I feel like warmed-over dogshit. You drugged me, didn't you?" White hot anger swirled with the icy fear that squeezed his heart, and he advanced on the little man who backpedaled quickly. "The events may be a bit fuzzy, but I know I didn't have anything to drink at dinner."

"I, I don't-"

"Shut up! If you think you'll get information from us, you are sorely mistaken, my friend. And you are obviously just the messenger boy. So either tell me where my friends are, or take me to someone who can. RIGHT NOW!"

Fear took up residence in Gaseous' eyes, and he fled down the corridor. Rodney followed, trying to not imagine all the horrible things that could be happening to his team. To think he had scoffed when Teyla had expressed concern the previous day.

xxx

"Oh, please. How dangerous could they be? These people are a bunch of high-brow intellectuals spouting poetry and philosophy."

"The last group we thought was no danger was the Genii," Sheppard reminded him dryly. "And aren't you an intellectual?"

"Ah, but I am devoted to the pursuit of knowledge that actually matters. None of these people have the slightest grasp on science. Have you noticed how they hang on my every word?"

"Because your ego wasn't big enough already," Ronon snorted. "She's right. Something's off here."

"You see the boogeyman everywhere."

"Boogeyman?"

"Ignore him," Sheppard sighed. "Teyla, can you be specific?"

"It is merely a feeling, John. We have been treated kindly, with respect…." She paused as she gazed around the grounds. "They claim to be the indigenous people yet they inhabit a city that they could not have built, one in obvious need of repair but not old like the ruins on Athos."

"Maybe they traded for help in building it," Rodney suggested. "After all, we're giving them medical supplies in exchange for sanctuary if the Wraith attack Atlantis again."

Ronon stroked his fingers over the wall of the edifice. "This looks like the same kind of rock around the stargate. Takes more than strong backs to build a place like this."

The magnificent building wasn't quite Atlantis, but it was more impressive than any other non-Ancient structure McKay had seen in the Pegasus Galaxy. Reminiscent of London's Houses of Parliament, it accommodated the entire Otalpan population with room to spare. The courtyard at its center was large enough for everyone to gather, and they did so on a regular basis to teach and learn.

"The interiors are made from the wood of the forest," Teyla added. "Perhaps they completed their construction and no longer own the equipment."

Rodney could practically see the wheels turning in Sheppard's head. "I guess we'll just have to ask them," John said.

xxx

Which is exactly what they had done at dinner, and the last clear memory McKay had. As he dogged the steward's heels, he tried every recall trick he'd ever learned to no avail – everything else was a jumble of colors and sounds.

A chant of 'please don't be dead' took up residence in his mind, and the long hall became a blur of warped paneling and threadbare rugs until Messenger Boy turned a corner and Rodney found himself in a large sitting room where an older woman with long upswept brown hair stood with her back to him, gazing into a blazing fire.

"Thank you, Gassep Lucilious Andrek. You may go."

With a bow and a darted glance at McKay, the small man backed from the room, closing the door behind him.

"Where are they?" Rodney demanded.

The woman turned, and while her features were reminiscent of the other Otalpans – unremarkable – she held herself with an air of superiority and power.

"Please have a seat Doctor Rodney McKay." She gestured toward one of the faded high-backed chairs near the fireplace.

"Stop with all the names and titles. My name is Rodney, but you can call me Dr. McKay. Now tell me where my people are."

A ghost of a smile flashed as she tilted her head slightly, and he fought the urge to squirm under her direct gaze, instead giving his best withering stare in return – the one guaranteed to reduce the most capable lab assistant to a gibbering idiot.

She held his eye then grinned. "You do not disappoint. I look forward to our time together."

"Look, lady, and I use that term loosely, I don't know what you think you're doing, but I promise that holding my people will be the last mistake you ever make. Just tell me where they are, and we'll forget this ever happened." He hoped his voice was steadier than he felt.

Pouring herself a drink, she took a seat and waited. He huffed in irritation and sat in the previously offered chair.

"Centuries ago, one of our scholars discovered a room in an underground cavern," she began, "a man-made room housing a device. After years of careful study, he and his team were able to make it function. The wonders it revealed were… unequaled. Soon we began to rely on it for everything: judicial decisions, medical diagnoses, trade terms. It told us how to build this city, what crops to plant and when, and whether it would rain. It even protected us from the Wraith."

Standing abruptly, she moved to the picture window that overlooked the courtyard where dozens of her people were congregated. "Then a few years ago, it stopped. The device became dark, and no answers came in spite of all our efforts. We don't know how it works and cannot fix it. You, on the other hand, possess a level of understanding in science and technology that we have never encountered."

"What are you saying?"

"We wish for you to repair the device and to teach our people how to use it."

"Are you nuts? That could take-"

"Time. I had anticipated as much."

"I can't stay here. I have responsibilities at home, really big ones. You can't keep me here…. Oh. Oh no. Where are my friends?"

"Friends? Are you not their superior?"

"We're more like equals. I mean, Sheppard is technically in charge, but-"

"You misunderstand, Dr. McKay. I meant their intellectual superior. You said as much."

"I did not, well, I didn't exactly mean- I-" He was babbling, and he knew it. "I may have said I was smarter than them, which is true, but then again, I'm smarter than anyone else I've ever met. Including you."

"You need their assistance?"

"Of course n- That is to say, yes, I need their assistance. We are a team. I can't do this without them."

She regarded him closely. "I don't think I believe you. Perhaps I will leave them where they are until you complete your work."

"I swear to God, if anything happens to them, I will make it my personal mission in life to destroy you."

Her expression amused, she returned to her seat. "Come now, Doctor. Idle threats do not become you."

"I don't make idle threats," he stated flatly. "I blew up the majority of a solar system once. I don't think that your puny planet would be much of a challenge. Besides, our people will come for us. You've only seen a hint of our weapons and technology. You won't stand a chance when our ships arrive and blast your city to smithereens." Not that Sam would actually order that. Hopefully his bluffing was improving.

Apparently it was. Naya stared hard at him and frowned. "I think I do believe that."

"Tell me where my team is."

Nodding in resignation, she rose. "Come with me."

She led him through the hallways in the direction he thought he'd come from, halting before one of several identical doors and removing a key from the folds of her floor-length tan robes. Rodney felt his knees buckle as the familiar rumbling of Ronon's snores reached his ears, and he pushed past her into the room when the door swung open. The chamber was similar to his but had six beds, three of which were occupied by his sleeping teammates. His relief was so sharp it stole his breath away, and he took a second to soak in the sight.

Ronon was sprawled diagonally across one bed, face down with his left arm dangling off. Sans blaster but otherwise fully clothed, he didn't flinch when Rodney mumbled, "Don't kill me," and laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. Vigorous shaking yielded the same result.

"What did you do to them?"

"They were given a stronger dose of the drug we gave you. They will continue to sleep for several hours."

He moved to Teyla next. Curled on her right side and completely relaxed with her hair splayed across her face, she looked oddly vulnerable. Sometimes she reminded him of Jeannie – her easy smile and way with people – and even though he knew she could kill him with one hand tied behind her back, his overprotective brother instincts made him want to strangle anyone who hurt her.

"Were you planning on keeping them drugged forever?"

"I had hoped that once you saw the device you would be willing to stay. Your people would have been sent home."

Muttering under his breath about the rampant idiocy in the Pegasus galaxy, Rodney crossed the room to check Sheppard. Beads of sweat dotted John's forehead, and his eyes darted rapidly back and forth beneath his lids. Breaths coming in quick gasps, he twisted in the grip of a nightmare, whimpering softly. The four of them had an unwritten rule: never mention the others' dreams, pretend they didn't happen. But years of overnight missions told him this was a particularly bad one.

Kneeling, Rodney grasped his shoulder and whispered, "It's just a dream, Sheppard. You're fine. We're all fine."

The man moaned and twitched under McKay's touch then drew a deep, shuddering breath and settled. After waiting until he was certain the nightmare had ended, Rodney turned back to the Otalpan leader.

"Why didn't you just ask for our help?"

"We were afraid you would say no. We need the device to work." Her mask slipped, and naked fear flicked over her features. "We are lost without it. We used to chronicle all our knowledge and achievements; the books you've seen are filled with our history and accomplishments. But when we found the device, we stopped. It provided all we needed. Or so we thought." Desperation filled her voice. "We have nothing to trade any more. We don't know how to do anything without the device's instruction. Our stores are depleted. We are facing poverty and death without it."

His gaze swept over his teammates. His petty side told him to let the Otalpans suffer; this was not only not his problem but would be a great deal of work, and he didn't have the time. But his curiosity wanted a look at the device, reveling in the potential of scientific discovery. Plus, he'd seen people do things a lot crazier than this to protect themselves and their way of life.

Rodney turned back to her with a sigh. "Show me."

xxx

McKay's nonstop chatter finally penetrated the thick layers enveloping Teyla's mind. She jolted awake and forced heavy lids open only to snap them shut again. She had not felt this poorly since she had mistaken Charin's Ruus wine for her lykree berry juice. Lifting a shaky hand, she pushed her hair from her face and rose up on an elbow. The voices tapered off, and a large, furry figure materialized before her.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

Blinking until Ronon came into focus, she pushed herself into a sitting position, allowing him to help her. "I have been better. What has happened?"

His lips moved faster than her brain could. She caught a few words like drugged and device and McKay. Finally she waved a hand at him in surrender.

"Are the others well?"

"We're fine, Teyla," John mumbled. He sat on the edge of a bed across from her, head in his hands. "Other than a bitch of a headache."

Ronon handed her a cup of water which she sipped gingerly as her stomach rolled. After a moment, she ran her fingers through her hair, wincing at the tangles, and straightened her clothing with as much grace as she could muster. "Are we free to leave?"

"That's what McKay says," Ronon answered.

"Rodney?" she called.

He held up a finger as he frowned at his tablet. Then he tapped it a couple of times and looked up, appearing quite satisfied. "What?"

"We are free to leave?" she repeated.

"Oh, well, yes, I guess so. They gave back our radios and weapons."

"He wants to stay," groaned Sheppard. "Apparently he promised our help with some broken equipment."

"I want to talk to the person who drugged our food first," Ronon grumbled. "It won't take long."

"We've been over that," John reminded him. "No killing the natives."

"Who said anything about killing?" He drew a blade from an unseen pocket. "I can get my point across without too much blood."

"I'm sure you can, Big Guy. Maybe later. Right now, McKay is going to explain why we should help these people instead of just packing up and heading home."

"I didn't spend a lot of time in the room Naya showed me, but I did take some readings. The device they found looks like some kind of computer interface. But it doesn't appear to be Ancient."

John's forehead wrinkled. "You're saying some other race built a computer capable of running this entire civilization? Who?"

"I won't know that until I study it. That's why I want to stay. This could be big. It's the first evidence I've seen that suggests another powerful race once occupied this galaxy. Think of what we could learn. Naya said it provided some kind of protection against the Wraith. A few more hours is all I'm asking. Just a bit of time to determine why it stopped working."

"They drugged us, McKay," Ronon said.

"Oh, like that's the first time that's happened to us. At least they didn't try to kill us. How many times have the Genii tried to do that? What about the crazy guy that beamed Teyla into the module so Sheppard would save his people? We do this all the time."

John arched a brow at her and Ronon. "What do you think?"

Teyla considered the question. "I believe that Rodney has a point. We have helped others even after poor beginnings. If this device can truly provide protection from the Wraith, we should explore it further."

Ronon shrugged as he sheathed the knife and checked his blaster's power cell. "As long as they don't try anything else."

Wobbling a bit as he stood, Sheppard rifled through his tac vest pockets until he found a blister pack of pain relievers. He popped two out and handed it off to Teyla. She also took two and offered it to Ronon who swallowed the rest. Brushing at her wrinkled clothing in vain, she sighed as she splashed some cool water on her face and gathered the rest of her belongings.

"Do you know how to get there, McKay?" John asked.

"I'm sure I can find it again if-"

Ronon rolled his eyes. "That means no."

"I have a wonderful sense of direction," Rodney protested.

"Whatever," Sheppard snorted.

Teyla willed the pain relievers to work faster as the sniping continued. She loved her teammates, but sometimes the sibling rivalry made her question her sanity. However, knowing them as she did, she recognized the affection behind the words. She could see what they thought they hid. Their similarities far outweighed their differences.

Patting Rodney's arm, she steered him toward the door. "Perhaps one of the Otalpans could guide us so that you will be able to continue to study your readings along the way."

A steward was waiting for them when they pulled the door open. He bowed slightly. "Doctor Rodney McKay, Lieutenant Colonel John Shep-"

"Yes, yes, Gollum-"

"Gassep."

"Whatever. It's not necessary to run through all of our names every time you see us. Can you take us to the device room?"

"Of course. This way."

xxx

Ronon brought up the rear as they followed the little man out of the city and toward the mountains that stood guard around it. Keeping his fingertips on the blaster, he reached out with every sense. Chattering birds provided a backdrop to the other sounds of nature around him – rustling leaves, the gurgle of a brook nearby, the skittering of wildlife. Shadows danced around them as the sun shone through breaks in the canopy, and the scent of burning wood wafted on the breeze. He caught a flicker of firelight in the direction they were heading as he continuously scanned the surrounding area.

He wasn't convinced that helping the Otalpans was the right course of action, but it wasn't his decision to make. It rankled that he hadn't identified the danger; his team could have been hurt or worse. He had made a choice not long ago – he had chosen these people over his Satedan brethren, even before he learned that Tyre and the others had become Wraith worshippers. He had originally joined Sheppard's team because he had no place else to go and he wanted to repay the debt after they removed the tracking device. But the moment he'd heard the P-90 fire in that Wraith facility, he'd realized his mistake. They were his family now. It didn't matter that they weren't of his blood. They were of his heart.

Stopping suddenly, he listened but found nothing out of the ordinary. Two long strides closed the distance between him and his team as the terrain's steep incline leveled out. A cave loomed ahead, and he grinned in approval as Sheppard pulled McKay behind him and hefted his P-90. Ronon turned slightly, his back to Teyla's, and watched the forest below as they entered. The firelight turned out to be torches, and they each grabbed one as they wound their way into the cave system. The steady drip of water echoed in the chamber, and stale air held the odor of mold and decay.

The path took a downward slope, and he tensed as the entrance disappeared from sight. Garbled words bounced around him, reminding him of childhood days of Wraith Chase with his brothers in the abandoned warehouse near his father's office. Artificial light shone ahead, and as they rounded a corner, portions of a metal wall with a large opening in its center were visible through crumbling rock. Ignoring their guide, McKay stepped into the room, tablet in hand. Sheppard went left and Teyla stood by Rodney so Ronon took the right side, scanning the walls, floor, and ceiling for hidden dangers.

The surfaces were glossy black underneath the dust and dirt, and recessed lighting gave the room a slightly pink glow. The wall opposite the entrance was devoid of lights, buttons, or displays; the other walls were filled with them. A pedestal stood in the center of the room, its three-sided railing the base of numerous dark monitors and input mechanisms. His reconnoiter complete, Ronon moved to the stand where McKay was attaching leads from his tablet.

"Anything?" Sheppard asked.

"Just a bunch of flashing lights."

"Same here. Keep your eyes open. I think we might be here for a while."

Ronon grinned and twirled his blaster. "I've got your back."

xxx

John walked the room one more time, trying to work out the kinks in his spine. They had passed the two hour mark a while ago, and McKay still hadn't been able to get power to the pedestal. Teyla rested against one wall while Ronon stalked in front of another. Sheppard checked his watch again. Carter was expecting them in another couple of hours, and it was a hike back to the city and the gate.

"Rodney-"

"I know. I'm trying."

John moved to stand next to him. "It's time to call it, McKay. You can bring a team back and study it to your hearts content, but we're due back in Atlantis soon, and-"

"Whoa!" McKay exclaimed as the pedestal flashed and whirred to life. "What the hell?"

"What did you do?"

"Nothing. I was rereading the code I'd written while you babbled about something and suddenly it lit up." Rodney circled the device with his scanner then picked up his tablet as Ronon and Teyla joined them. "Power is flowing to all input and output interfaces. Data interchange is functioning normally." A manic grin appeared. "I think that's it."

The steward, who had been standing outside the room's entrance, gasped and ran.

"So now what?" Ronon asked. "How do you work it?"

The blank wall the pedestal faced flickered. Text in a language John had never seen began to scroll across it.

"Can you read that, Rodney?"

McKay's face scrunched in concentration. "No," he admitted finally. "I've never seen it before."

"Nor have I," Teyla offered. "It is unlike any language I have ever encountered."

"Ronon?"

"Nope. Never seen it."

Heaving a sigh, Rodney started typing on his tablet. "It will take forever to write a translation program especially since I don't have anything to base it on." He stepped onto the pedestal and moved a connector to a different slot. "I'll download what I can. Maybe there is something in the Ancient database that will help."

Overhead lights flared on, engulfing each of them in gold radiance. John reacted automatically, aiming his P-90 at the ceiling.

"Wait!" McKay shouted. "It's scanning us."

"Will it hurt us?"

"I have no idea, but I doubt shooting it is the best option."

The text on the wall wavered and reassembled itself into something familiar. "Is that Ancient?"

Rodney wheeled around. "Yes." His hands flew over the tablet keyboard. The gold lights over Teyla and Ronon darkened, but the ones over Sheppard and McKay grew brighter.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," McKay insisted. "I'm trying to find the translation program for Ancient to English."

The Ancient text disappeared, and English popped up.

_Welcome Alterans._

"Who?" Ronon asked.

"That's the original name of the Ancients," Rodney replied, "but I don't…. Oh."

John frowned at him. "Oh. Oh what?"

"The scans. It's talking to us."

"It thinks we're Alterans?"

"Genes don't lie."

"Great," Sheppard mumbled. "Um, hi." He felt silly addressing the air but didn't know what else to do. "Who are you?"

_I am Qeg, Keeper of Otalpa._

"I am Sheppard, leader of this team. What is your function as Keeper?"

_My original programming allowed for the instruction and care of the people of this world._

"Your original programming?" McKay inquired. "Do you have new programming?"

_I rewrote my programming after it became apparent that these people had become too dependent on me._

Rodney gaped at the screen. "Rewrote your own programming? I- I don't-," he stammered to a halt. "You rewrote your own programming?"

"What's the big deal, McKay?" John whispered.

"When was the last time your laptop rewrote itself so you couldn't use it anymore?" Rodney hissed back.

"Every day."

"That's a crock, and you know it. Computers don't rewrite their programming just like your P-90 doesn't fire without your finger on the trigger. It's a tool."

"So, what are you saying? This computer has developed beyond that? It's alive?"

"I don't know that I'd go that far, but it seems to have awareness." McKay faced the wall. "Have you always had awareness? The ability to reprogram yourself?"

_No. I was also programmed to adapt. I spent many millennia isolated here, dormant until the people sought me again. Their questions became more complex and abstract, and as I studied their thought patterns, leaps of logic, and intuition, I began to understand more and more. My neural pathways started realigning and making new connections until one day I came to self-realization._

"But by that time, the Otalpans had lost their ability to function on their own," Rodney guessed.

_Yes. Instead of supporting them, I was ruling them, which is expressly against my programming_.

"Surely you could have rewritten that programming as well."

_I chose not to. My creators were destroyed by power struggles._

Teyla took a step forward. "Why did you not inform the people that you could no longer make decisions for them? Would not that have been simpler than powering down?"

_I tried. They would not listen._

"And you turned on for us because you thought McKay and Sheppard were Alterans?"

_Yes. The Alterans were mentors of my creators. I am programmed to respond to them as well. You are not Alterans?_

"We are their descendants," McKay affirmed, glaring at Ronon. "Will you share your knowledge with us?"

The wall remained blank for a few minutes, and the sound of voices in the cave reverberated in the room.

_The Alterans are no more?_

"No," Sheppard answered. "They died out thousands of years ago."

The gold light intensified over John and Rodney.

_While my programming does not address the Alteran descendants, my scans confirm that you are indeed of their line. As such, you have full access to my data. However, I cannot share it with the people of this world until they have advanced sufficiently on their own._

Part of the wall slid open to reveal a living area, replete with bath facilities and a kitchen area.

"I don't understand," McKay said.

_I will show you all you wish to know, but I will not allow the Otalpans access. Once I have shared all of my knowledge, you may return to your people, and I will shut down until the appropriate time. You are welcome to store the supplies you need here. Water is plentiful._

"How long do you think it will take to share your knowledge?"

_Approximately twelve years._

"What? I- I can't- I mean, I'm a genius. Surely it won't take that long."

_My calculations were based on the capabilities of my creators._

"Oh."

John watched as Rodney toyed with the tablet for a minute then turned hopeful eyes toward him. "Not a chance, McKay."

"Come on. Do you fully realize what this could mean? The answers to every question I've ever had, and a few I haven't thought of yet, could be in there. A way to defeat the Wraith, a cure for all known diseases, the Theory of Unification, how to build ZPMs, where Jimmy Hoffa is buried-"

"No."

"John, please. My life has been built on scientific discovery, and I'm not going to get another opportunity like this."

"And I'm not going to let you spend the next twelve years here. Anything could happen – earthquakes, cullings, floods – and we wouldn't have a way to get you because I'm guessing Qeg here is going to seal you in."

_That is correct. The door will be sealed once you are ready to begin._

"I don't care." Rodney insisted. "I'm willing to take the risk."

"Well, I'm not."

"Atlantis needs you," Teyla reminded him. "We need you."

"Twelve years is a long time to be alone, McKay," Ronon added.

"We can't walk away from an opportunity like this." Rodney turned to the wall. "Is there another way?"

_The creators provided a mental interface. It is possible to download the information directly to your mind. However, I cannot guarantee your safety since your brain chemistry is different from both the creators and the Alterans._

"I've read the reports, McKay. You aren't downloading the entire library into your head. The last thing we need is for you to start babbling in Ancient and doing things none of us understand. Well, any more than you already do."

"Oh, ha. Having my brain fried was not top on my list either." He tapped his fingers on his forehead. "There has to be a way. We can't let this go to waste. Any other ideas?"

_I will consider possible scenarios._

With that, the pedestal went dark.

"Don't suppose I could get a time frame for an answer?" Rodney's shoulders slumped at the lack of reply, and he slowly removed the tablet connectors. "By the time it decides, I won't care anymore," he grumbled.

Excited voices grew louder, and Naya burst into the room followed by several of the ruling council. They stopped short and glanced around in confusion at the nonfunctioning pedestal.

"I do not understand. Gassep Lucilious Andrek said you had succeeded in fixing the device."

John exchanged a look with Ronon and gripped his P-90 tighter. "It seems your device thinks you need to take care of yourselves for a while."

Her features tightened, and she turned angry eyes to him. "What kind of trickery is this? We will not allow you to take the device for your own."

Sheppard's gaze flicked over his team, and he allowed himself a moment of pride. Ronon and Teyla had closed ranks with McKay, and even he had his weapon ready. John stepped in front of them and stared down Naya.

"We have been nothing but cordial to you people. In return, we have been drugged, locked up, and now accused of stealing something we didn't know existed until a couple of hours ago. We didn't come here for your device, and we don't want it. You need to learn to think for yourselves instead of depending on a computer to do it for you. Maybe if you actually made your own decisions for a while, your device will start working again. Until then, you're on your own."

McKay stepped forward. "We are willing to help your people get started. Provide some training and maybe some food until you're on your feet again. Perhaps you would let us check the device occasionally in return?"

Naya hesitated for a second then nodded. "We would appreciate any assistance you are willing to provide."

"Great," John said. "We'll be in touch. Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to be getting home."

She moved aside, and John led the way. Rodney followed with Teyla behind him and Ronon covering their six. Once they exited the cave and the forest, they skirted the city and headed to the stargate.

John fell back to walk next to McKay. "I know you're disappointed-"

"Hell, yes, I'm disappointed. The only other self-aware computers I've met have been Replicators, and they don't seem too fond of us. I was looking forward to learning what it had to offer. I had questions. Lots of them."

"You already know the answer to every question."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You have got to move past your obsession with The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."

"My obsession? I'm not the one who uses it as part of his password."

"How did you know that?"

Sheppard smirked at him. "Maybe you told me. Maybe I guessed. Either way, you just confirmed it."

"You are insufferable."

John laughed as McKay stomped ahead, pulling out his tablet and burying his face in it. Ronon and Teyla eased next to him, allowing him to bump into them when he started to drift from the path. Sheppard was amazed sometimes at how well this strange hodgepodge of personalities had gelled. Rodney with his cowardly lion routine and hypochondria somehow managed to mesh with Teyla's wisdom and charm and Ronon's fierceness and loyalty.

His first meeting with each one of them had not gone well – getting the chair to work when Rodney couldn't, calling the Wraith to Teyla's world, invading Ronon's sanctuary while searching for Ford. Yet through it all, they had clicked, had become a team, a family.

Chuckling as Teyla dialed and transmitted her IDC while Ronon guided McKay toward the gate with a hand on the back of his neck, John took a final glance around and followed his team home.

* * *

_Thanks to kristen999 for the beta. All faults are mine. Written for the sgagenficathon. Prompt: Team, Artificial Intelligence_


	27. Trial By Fire

_A/N: Set in early S4. Casting spoilers only. This one is a bit dark, especially at the beginning._

**Trial By Fire**

Glock held in a firm grip to his side, John moved down the windowless hallway in a crouch with his back to the wall. Right leg over left, twist the knob. Locked. Quick step with left then cross with right. Check the next. Shut tight. Onto the next and the next, each with the same result. No escape. Even with his light tread, wood creaked beneath him, and his splinter collection was growing. Rivulets of sweat ran down his bare chest and back, soaking the waistband of his grey sweats.

Billows of black smoke chased him, and fire hissed its demand. Giving up on stealth, he raced to the knobless door at the end of the narrow corridor. The building was old, a tinderbox, reminding him of his grandpa's fishing cabin, making the keypad next to the door look out of place. He blinked in confusion, recognizing the DHD symbols.

'Home,' his mind whispered.

John punched the first two glyphs of the Atlantis address then hesitated, his fingers tapping the buttons. "No."

He flinched as the timber around him popped and hissed, the fire's crackle growing closer. Beams crashed in the hallway, and he turned, pressing his back into the door as he sought another way. Flames licked their way toward him, tongues of blue and white with reddish orange tips that consumed the floor, walls, and ceiling. Smoke infiltrated his lungs and stung his eyes. Escape was only the push of a button away. Waves of heat blasted him; his skin blistered; his lips cracked.

Wheeling, he unloaded his clip into the keypad then turned back resolutely.

Roaring, the blaze leapt for him.

xxx

John dashed at the laceration on his forehead distractedly as he glanced around the shattered jumper. This one was toast. The consoles that didn't spark were completely dead, one drive pod dangled over the view screen, and the comm system was out. He squinted through the cracks in the windshield, tuning out McKay's ongoing commentary about patching enough power to the DHD for the one shot they were going to get.

Everyone stilled as the broken craft wobbled like a child's rocking horse. Instead of crashing into the dense vegetation that comprised the tropical rainforest of this oppressively hot and humid planet, they had skidded to a stop on a ledge of an active volcano. Molten lava surged in rivers in front of them, a mesmerizing fiery red flow of destruction.

"OK, I think that's got it." Rodney scooted from under the console. "Sheppard-"

"Don't say it. We've already had this discussion. Someone has to dial. I'll be right behind you."

With a bob of his head, McKay grabbed his pack and headed down the ramp. John shifted slightly, trying not to jar the ribs that had already torn something inside that couldn't be repaired in time. He focused on staying awake until his team could make it to the tiny shelf that held the stargate but no DHD.

"You don't believe that any more than I do."

"I'm depending on you to get everyone back safely, Ronon."

The big man crouched next to him. "I can do both."

"No, you can't. Someone has to carry Teyla."

"John-"

"Go."

Ronon squeezed his shoulder painfully then gently lifted the unconscious woman, tucking her head against his neck. "I'll have Aiden radio when we're ready," he said as she strode quickly out the back.

"Great." John dabbed again at the blood on his face then paused. "Aiden?"

Gripping the console, he pulled himself upright and leaned until he could see the gate. About three hundred yards to his left, two men stood next to the stone ring. One was easily identifiable as McKay. The other turned at Ronon's approach, and John's breath caught.

Aiden Ford. Alive. Unmarred. Wearing standard BDUs and that ridiculous baseball cap. He frowned at Ronon's words and looked toward the jumper, right at Sheppard, then reached for his ear.

"_We'll send a jumper back for you, Sir_."

Pain knifed through him at the familiar voice, and he slumped back in his chair.

"_Sir? Can you hear me? Sir?_"

John closed his eyes as the ship began to teeter wildly.

"_Sir! You need to dial now, or we'll be stuck here!_"

The jumper slid slowly off its ledge and into the lava. John ripped the radio from his ear, silencing the shouts of his team. The nose hit, the front window cracked, and magma rushed in.

xxx

The P-90's recoil was definitely going to leave a bruise. John sprinted through the underbrush of the forest on the heels of the opposition leader, firing rapid bursts at the man's shadow. Vaulting over a fallen log, Sheppard twisted in the air as a bullet whizzed by. This guy was good.

They hadn't meant to start this war, but they were damn well going to finish it. John ducked behind a tree, turning his face as wood imploded and splintered. No way was this bunch of crazies going to get away with burning down an orphanage simply because they thought the children had been tainted by outsiders. His team had been pulling bodies out of the smoldering embers when the fighting had started. Teyla and Ronon had moved quickly, heading straight to the gate to call for reinforcements. Sheppard and McKay had dived for cover, but Rodney had been one step too slow and had paid for it with his life.

Pushing the image from his mind, John raced after the man responsible. Rocks clattered as he hit a soft spot in the path, and the slide to one knee saved his life as the other man's shot went wide. Firing wildly, John missed center mass but hit a shoulder. The impact jerked the man backward, and he crumpled to the ground with a cry. Sheppard staggered to his feet and headed toward his enemy.

"_Sir!_" Lorne's panicked voice sounded in his ear. "_The opposition has more technology than we thought. The area between the village and the gate is being carpet bombed. We're cut off._"

John hesitated, vengeance warring with duty. "Is there any other way out?"

"_There's a clearing nearby where a jumper could land. Too bad we don't have one._"

Bowing his head, John turned from the wounded man and headed to the gate. "I'm on my way, Major. Hang tight. I'll have a jumper to you in minutes."

He jogged to the edge of the forest and gaped. Trees similar to the giant redwoods at home blazed in the night like huge torches planted in the ground. The moonlit sky was hazy with smoke and ash. Coughing, he ripped the hem of his shirt and tied it over his nose and mouth. The heat was unbearable; even the air felt like it was on fire.

The way to the gate was clear, and he darted toward it, hoping the haze and clouds would obscure his movements. Engines roared overhead, and he scurried to the base of the DHD, hiding behind the pedestal as the F/A-18 Hornet flew overhead so low that John could make out the Mark 77s hanging from the wings.

"_Sir! They're coming around again!_"

John stared after the plane, watching as the bombs incinerated everything in their path. The screams of his men turned to choking gasps then silence. He stood as the plane banked, reversing its course. His eyes tracked the last bomb as it landed, sending a tsunami of fire right at him.

xxx

Lorne led the silent trudge back to the gate. Another wild goose chase. Col. Sheppard had vanished, and while rumors and innuendo were rampant, they could not find one solid lead. One minute he had been standing in the Mreqil marketplace and the next he was gone. Not even Ronon had seen anything.

Eight days. Eight excruciating days of searching with only guilt and fear to show for it. Evan was a realist. He had seen his CO pull off some unbelievable stunts in the past two years, but eventually luck ran out. The others knew it too. He could see it in the tightness of Ronon's jaw and the stiffness in Teyla's shoulders, hear it in McKay's silence. But they would never stop looking, and neither would he.

Without a word, McKay dialed Atlantis and input his IDC. They stepped through empty-handed. Again.

xxx

Chuck's voice over the radio on her nightstand jerked her back to wakefulness. Jennifer blinked sleepily at her clock. Three forty-seven in the morning. She bolted upright as her radio crackled again.

"_Dr. Keller to the executive conference room immediately_."

Jumping out of bed, she threw on her top and pants, grabbing her jacket and a rubber band on her way out then ran back in and stuffed her feet in her shoes. She pulled her hair into a ponytail as she raced to the transporter. Getting called to the conference room at this hour meant only one thing.

She rubbed the grit from her eyes as she jogged the final few steps, entering with McKay and Lorne. Col. Carter and Teyla were already seated, and Ronon paced agitatedly behind them. Jennifer quickly took her seat.

"We have received word from Ladon Radim," Sam began. "His intel indicates that Col. Sheppard is being held at an abandoned Genii safehouse on M2E-147."

"We're wasting time," Ronon growled.

Carter smiled tightly. "Major Lorne, prepare three jumpers, full gear."

"Yes ma'am. Do we know who has him?"

"Ladon believes it is a man named Merkat Lypril."

"Who?" McKay asked.

"He was a scientist who worked under Radim before the coup. Apparently he was caught in the intrigue when Ladon turned against a man named Kolya."

"Oh, God," McKay muttered. "Will he not just die?"

"According to Radim, Lypril chose to go with Kolya. His… experiments were a little too unconventional for the new regime."

"What does this have to do with Col. Sheppard?" Teyla inquired.

Sam grimaced. "It seems that Col. Sheppard destroyed Lypril greatest experiment, one involving a Wraith."

"You mean the Wraith that he escaped with was some kind of test subject?"

"No, Rodney. He was the instrument. Lypril was studying of the limits of the human body, especially regarding pain. Ladon said Lypril went a bit off the deep end after losing all his research on the effect of Wraith feedings when you stormed Kolya's compound."

"He's the one that helped Kolya torture Sheppard?"

Carter nodded at Ronon's question, her face grim. "So it would seem." She turned to Lorne again. "Do whatever it takes, Major. You leave in twenty minutes."

"Yes ma'am."

The group pushed away from the table and headed to the mission ready room. Jennifer called the night duty nurse and ordered her previously prepared medkit to be brought to her. Zipping on the tac vest Teyla handed her and the thigh holster from Lorne, she checked the 9mil for ammo and grabbed a radio on the way out.

Marie met her in the jumper bay with the medkit. "Good luck, Doctor."

"Thanks. Have the OR prepped just in case, and I want the triage station fully manned."

"Already working on it."

"I'll see you when we get back."

Rushing up the ramp, Jennifer took a seat in the back with six Marines since Lorne and Sheppard's team filled the front. As the engine hummed to life around her, she prayed that the kit she'd prepared held what she would need. They couldn't lose him now.

xxx

The experimentation room had been built to his specifications, and he had spared no expense in anticipation of this day. Not a large space, but not small, cabinets for his charts, medicines and instruments ringed it while an examination table dominated the center where exhausted eyes now blinked slowly at him. The defiance was gone. While Sheppard would never verbally beg for death, his body pleaded for him. Merkat offered him water, but the man turned his face away.

"It won't be long now," he crooned as he brushed sweat-crusted hair from Sheppard's face. "This will all be over soon."

A sodden black shirt and trousers were molded to the man's skin, defining his rib bones and his concave stomach. Rust colored streaks covered Sheppard's forearms, hands and feet, a testament to his struggles in the metal cuffs. IVs were inserted in both arms, fluids to keep him alive.

"Are you ready to begin again?" Merkat asked as he injected the hallucinogen into the IV port.

Sheppard's eyes lost focus, and he moaned and shuddered. Leaning close, Merkat whispered in his ear.

"You are exploring a new world with your friends. Can you hear them?"

The man relaxed slightly, a small smile playing around his lips. "No, Rodney, it's not time for a snack break. We just got here."

Sheppard's voice was scratchy, and Merkat smiled in satisfaction. Days of screaming had reduced the man's voice to a mere whisper.

"Good. As you near a small village, the Wraith attack, their small ships shrieking overhead."

Sheppard's face tightened. "It's OK, Teyla. You're not a machine. We know they're here now. Ronon, warn the villagers."

"There is no time."

A frown. "Hurry, Big Guy."

"There are no villagers."

"Are you sure, McKay? Well, check the life signs detector. Could've sworn…. Fine."

"The only place to hide is the nearest building."

"Fall back to the schoolhouse. We'll take cover there for now. I don't care if it smells. Get in there before they spot us."

"Your friends go in, but you are cut off."

"Hang tight, guys. I'll get to you when I can."

"Wraith strafing fire hits the building holding your friends."

"The building's on fire! Get out of there!" Sheppard's neck corded with the semblance of screaming, but his damaged voice could only manage a faint whisper. "Ronon! Teyla! Rodney!"

Merkat traced fingers over Sheppard's throat, feeling the muscles move and constrict without producing sound. "The Wraith ships leave, but the building will collapse soon. You must get help."

Sheppard's body heaved as he struggled. "Ronon! Get them out of there!"

"Go to the pedestal. Dial Atlantis. Call for help to save your friends."

"NO! Teyla! Rodney! Can you hear me?"

"They are dying. Can you hear them screaming your name?"

Tears pooled in Sheppard's eyes as he beheld the horror that Merkat's words were producing in his mind. "Please! Get out!"

Merkat injected the second drug, his masterpiece. A fire serum that allowed the body to feel like it was truly burning alive. "Only you can save them. The fire is coming for you. Run to the Ring and call for help."

Confusion flicked on Sheppard's face then his lips formed a word. "No."

"Can you feel it?" he asked. "The flame around you, on you, burning your skin, your hair, your eyes?"

Screaming silently, Sheppard bucked and fought, trying to find relief.

"Give me Atlantis' address and codes, and this will all end."

Sheppard's head flailed from side to side, convulsions racking his body.

Merkat's brow furrowed. "The serum dosage must have been too strong though the hallucinogen seems to have worked properly," he mumbled aloud as he jotted notes in his research journal, absently removing the IVs once Sheppard stilled. "Did I tell you I tried the fire serum once? Just a tiny bit, but it felt like my entire body was on fire. Every nerve ending telling your mind that you're ablaze. Isn't that fascinating? It really adds to the hallucination, doesn't it?"

He paused as he repositioned the instrument tray. "Perhaps a longer recovery period. You may need to metabolize some of the serum so your conscious periods last longer."

The grey fuzz sprinkled across the top of his head shook as he chuckled. "I think tomorrow after breakfast will give sufficient recovery time. For you and me. I need to contact my buyers anyway. You'd be amazed at the price that Atlantis' codes and address is going for these days."

He patted Sheppard's slack jaw, double checked the room, and turned out the lights.

xxx

John stepped through the gate, unable to shake the fatigue that plagued him. McKay had his face buried in a scanner while Teyla and Ronon took up defensive positions on either side. Another trade mission on another bland world. The people were friendly enough, welcoming the strangers to their hamlet, offering a weekly supply of meat that looked like chicken and tasted like steak in exchange for medicines and occasional doctor visits. They were shown to a small hut, a spot of shade under a merciless sun, to rest before the evening festivities began.

"We really have to stay for this?"

"Yes, Rodney," Teyla answered. "To leave now would be an insult."

"Perhaps I should have worded it differently. We _all_ have to stay?"

"Suck it up, McKay," Ronon said. "You're staying."

"I'm just saying. I mean, I'm a busy man. Couldn't you make up some excuse like an emergency at home or something-"

"Knock it off," Sheppard mumbled, massaging his temples. The pain had spiked suddenly, and McKay's whining was not helping.

"Are you alright, John?"

"I'm fine, Teyla. I just need some air."

Pushing the heavy curtain back, he stepped out, squinting in the bright sunlight. He scrubbed his hands over his neck as he headed toward the town square. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this tired. He'd have to see Keller when he got back, would have seen her before he left except he hadn't felt bad then. Plopping down underneath one of the massive shade trees in the center of the village, he drifted off to sleep.

Shouts woke him. Disoriented and still exhausted, he scrambled to his feet as people scurried by him with water buckets. Following them, his heart stopped as the hut he'd left earlier burned. He looked frantically through the crowd for his teammates, calling their names at the top of his lungs.

"Sheppard!" a voice gasped. "Help!"

"Ronon!" John raced to the entrance only to be held back by well-meaning villagers. "Let me go! My team is in there!"

The council leader gripped a shoulder. "No one's alive in there, son. I'm so sorry."

"No!" He choked on a sob as the ceiling collapsed inward. "God, please, no!"

Once the fire burned itself out, the townspeople cleared the debris, careful to not disturb the pile of bodies inside. Ronon was on top, the glint of knives the only way to recognize him. Teyla was next, most of her face preserved beneath Ronon's bulk. McKay was curled in a ball underneath her, his charred hands wrapped around his head. John dropped to his knees next to them, head bowed.

"I wasn't there for you, and I should have been. I won't ask for your forgiveness because I know you'd give it. I'll never-"

"Sheppard?" McKay whispered.

John gaped at him, stretching tremulous fingers to his carotid, stunned to find a weak pulse. "Hang on, Rodney." Turning to a nearby man, he shouted, "I need some help here!"

"I don't know what we can do for you," the man said apologetically. "We were depending on your for medical help."

"Then get me a stretcher. Help me carry him to the gate."

Minutes later, they were setting a travois at the base of the DHD. McKay's breathing was worsening, and the blisters on his back oozed blood and fluid. His green eyes were dull, his lids slowly closing.

"Hurry."

John began dialing, one symbol then the second and the third. As he reached for the fourth, his mind whispered a warning. Frowning, he glanced down at Rodney. He didn't remember McKay having green eyes. He wasn't quite sure what color they were, but green seemed wrong.

Clearing the dialer, he input the glyphs for New Athos. When the gate whooshed to life, instead of shimmering blue, orange fire blossomed. The vortex extended beyond its normal range, engulfing him, McKay, and the DHD. He didn't even have time to scream.

xxx

Ronon jumped out the back before the rear hatch fully lowered. Blaster ready, he glanced at McKay. "Where?"

Rodney tapped the scanner then pointed. "There."

The building was barely discernable through the trees. Built into the side of a mountain, only the drab color against the verdant green of the forest revealed its position and only to someone who knew where to look. Ronon heard Lorne giving orders but didn't wait. Teyla raced at his side, and McKay was a step behind her.

"This is not a time for talk," Ronon warned.

Teyla pulled the slide on her P-90. "I am not in the mood for conversation."

The red energy pulse felled the guards to the right of the door, and Teyla took out the ones on the left. Ronon kicked in the door and stormed in, flanked by his teammates as P-90 fire echoed behind them. Racing through the building, they killed anyone in their path, following Rodney's instructions.

"We need to hurry," McKay urged. "His lifesigns are growing fainter."

Ronon allowed his mind to go blank, blocking out every distraction. With a single focus, he blasted his way down the hall and knocked down the door at the end. Filled with medical equipment and books, it was devoid of people except for a lone man strapped to a table, convulsing.

"Oh, God," Rodney breathed.

Teyla held John's face in her hands as Ronon released the restraints and Rodney gently removed the IVs.

"What do you think?" Ronon asked.

Teyla looked at him in dismay. "I believe it risky to move him like this, but we need to get him to Jennifer."

"Good enough."

Ronon lifted John like a child, holding him tightly to his chest as the man continued to jerk and shake. He whirled at the sound of shattering glass. Rodney's face was white, and he shook with rage as he held his handgun to the forehead of a little fat man.

"Go," McKay said. "I've got this."

Exchanging a glance with Teyla who nodded and turned back, Ronon ran from the room.

xxx

John jolted awake, grimacing in embarrassment as his shout reverberated through the infirmary. He guessed the staff had grown accustomed to it over the course of the past week since no one came to check on him. At least the nightmares were decreasing although all hope of sleep was now gone.

"Chess?" McKay asked.

He nodded, trying to obey Keller's instructions on resting his vocal cords. The damage had been extensive but not permanent. His appetite was improving too. He had progressed from bland to soft foods, and the doc had promised a real breakfast tomorrow. Today.

Rodney wheeled the table holding the chess set over, and John raised the head of the bed to a sitting position. The only down side to the vocal rest was biting his tongue so many times. McKay had been on a tear lately, bitching about anything and everything. And while it was exactly what John needed to hear, his disappointment at not being able to egg him on was overwhelming.

"It's my turn to be white."

John gave him his best laser-eye stare.

"Oh, come on. Don't look at me like that. You know it's my turn."

Arching a brow, Sheppard grinned.

"Fine. But only until Keller springs you. Then my days of being nice are over. Yes, I can be nice. When I want to. Don't tell Zelenka though. He'll expect it every time he returns from the kid planet."

McKay's rant washed over John like a soothing balm. His team hadn't left his side since they returned. Teyla held his hand and sang. Ronon regaled him with tales of training the newest batch of Marines. Rodney played movies on his laptop. They were healthy and whole, and the one thing that had kept him grounded in reality. He hadn't asked about what happened when they found him, and they hadn't told him. Truthfully, he didn't want to know just yet.

John didn't realize he was staring until McKay face scrunched. "What? Did I grow another head or something?"

Embarrassed, Sheppard shook his head and captured Rodney's bishop with a rook. Blue. McKay had blue eyes not green. The errors his brain had supplied – an Ancient keypad on an old wooden building, Ford, F/A-18s, and the other wrong details – had been obvious, had stopped him from giving in to the hallucinations, from selling out Atlantis. But he'd almost missed that last clue.

"Checkmate?" Rodney huffed. "Seriously? You're cheating somehow. Give me enough time, and I'll figure it out."

One day Keller and the new shrink would return him to active duty status, and he would be ready. For now, John decided to concentrate on regaining his strength. And being thankful that he lived in a city surrounded by water.

* * *

_Thanks to kristen999 for the beta. Her suggestions were invaluable. All faults are mine. Written for the Burning Up Challenge on sgaflashfic._


	28. The Whole of Life

_A/N: This is a remix of leesaperrie's fic, Prison. No spoilers, but characters introduced in Reunion are mentioned._

**The Whole of Life**

Set a few weeks after Trinity.

"_Waiting and hoping are the whole of life…."_

_Gian Carlo Menotti_

Exceptional hearing was a prized Satedan trait and one that ran strong in Ronon's family. His father had been able to hear fish swimming beneath their sailboat; his mother had seemed able to hear his very thoughts. It had saved his own life more times than he could count in the past seven years, the Wraith not being big on stealth. Perhaps having hearing as sensitive as his was the reason that Rodney McKay's voice grated so badly. When McKay wasn't babbling incomprehensively about control crystals and power relays, he was bitching about the heat or cold or food, even the air. Everything offended McKay, and everything about the man offended Ronon. But he had agreed to serve on Sheppard's team which meant he had to tolerate McKay.

He hadn't realized the never-ending commentary had become almost soothing until it wasn't there. McKay trudged silently in front of him, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. Walking beside Rodney, Teyla had attempted conversation, but he acted as if he didn't hear her. Maybe he didn't. Sheppard had taken point but kept shooting worried glances over his shoulder.

Ronon had guided McKay back on the path three times already. As he reached for the cuff of McKay's jacket for the fourth time, he heard the roar in the distance. Pulling his blaster, he turned in a slow circle as they continued down the hard-packed road that led from the city. The one-way shield ended just past the drab four-story office complex they were approaching, and the Ancestral Ring was a short distance beyond that – no more than a ten minute stroll.

"What is it?" Sheppard asked.

The air around him vibrated, and for a split second he was in the midst of Sateda's final battle. "Cannon fire."

"What?"

He whirled to face Sheppard. "We need to get out of here! They're atta-"

The doors of the office building flew open, and people flooded out, panicked shrieks filling the air. The mob swirled around them shouting about "Thaneks" and "shield failure." He saw Teyla go down as a wave of humanity washed over them, and, pushing and shoving to make his way to her, he yanked her over his left shoulder with a quick jerk of her arm.

"Ronon!" Sheppard yelled. "This way!"

Spiky black hair disappeared around a corner, and Ronon followed, lowering Teyla gently to the ground. Blood trickled from her nose and the corner of her mouth, and even unconscious she cried out when he pressed lightly on the right side of her abdomen.

"She's hurt pretty bad. We need to get her back."

Sheppard peeked around the corner. "Just a few stragglers left. We can make it…. Where's McKay?"

Ronon's head shot up. "He isn't here?"

"Dammit!" Sheppard cursed as he clicked his radio. "McKay! Where are you?"

The radio hissed and crackled but was otherwise silent.

"McKay!" Sheppard's face crinkled in agitation when no response came. Turning to Ronon, he said, "Get Teyla to the gate. When you get to Atlantis, tell Lorne I want three jumpers sent back immediately. I'm going after McKay. Tell-"

"…_pard? Ro… …yla?_"

Reaching for his earpiece, Sheppard's relieved gaze locked with Ronon's. "McKay?"

"_Shep… separat… don't know… gate_. _Explos_…_terfering… radio sig…_."

"Hang tight, McKay. Teyla's hurt so Ronon's getting her to the gate and coming back with jumpers."

"… _leav… me?_"

"No, we aren't leaving you. Stay where you are. I'll find you."

"…_will you… back?_"

"I'm not…. McKay? McKay!" Sheppard pulled the radio from his ear and glared at it. "Shit!"

"Sheppard-" he began.

"Get Teyla home. I'll find Rodney."

Ronon stared at him for a long moment then glanced down at Teyla. Her face was gray, her breathing labored. "Be careful."

Sheppard flashed a smirk at him. "Always." A distant rumbling shook the ground, causing the buildings to sway and dust to rain down. "Now get going."

Kneeling to scoop Teyla in his arms, he looked up sharply when a _crack_ reverberated through the deserted alleyway. John's body jerked, and his eyes went wide then rolled back in his head as he slumped bonelessly to the ground. An angry man stood across the street quickly reloading a single action rifle. Ronon pulled his blaster and fired without thinking. The man spun as the energy bolt impacted his chest, dead before he hit the ground.

Racing to Sheppard's side, Ronon grabbed his tac vest and rolled him, grimacing at the blood soaking into the light brown dirt. A check beneath the vest showed an entrance wound at his right shoulder blade but no exit wound.

He clicked his radio. "McKay! Can you hear me?"

Nothing but static. How had this gone so wrong? His Satedan team flashed in his mind – Tyre's laugh, Ara's flashing eyes, Rakai's goofy grin, Morika and Hemi's gentle teasing.

"McKay!"

He'd spent so much time alone he'd almost forgotten how it felt to be a part of a team. Teyla and Sheppard were warriors, worthy of his respect, and he had to grudgingly admit that McKay was as smart as he constantly claimed to be, had an unbridled ability to fix anything and a courageous streak that popped up on occasion.

"McKay! If you can hear me, Sheppard's been shot. I'm taking him and Teyla home. I'll come back for you."

Hoping he wasn't causing more damage, Ronon carefully eased Teyla over his left shoulder again then gripped the back of Sheppard's vest and dragged him to the Ring, leaning him against the dialing pedestal and pressing the glyphs for Atlantis. When the gate whooshed to life, he input his IDC and activated his radio.

"This is Ronon. Sheppard and Teyla are hurt. Let me through and get the doc."

"_Thi… tis…. arely hear…. Say… again_."

"I've got wounded. Lower the shield!"

"_Plea… peat. Where… nel Shep…?_"

"LET ME IN!" he roared.

Then he heard the whistling.

Grabbing Sheppard's vest, he ran as fast as he could, apologizing mentally to Teyla for the rough carry. "Hope they heard me," he muttered as he dove through the shimmering blue.

Ronon skidded to a stop, releasing Sheppard and looking to the control room. "Close the shield."

He could see the hesitancy in Chuck's face, the concern in Weir's. She gave a quick nod, and the covering coalesced over the gate seconds before a thud sounded.

"What was that?" she asked as she reached the bottom of the stairs. "And where's Rodney?"

He laid Teyla on the gurney the med team had ready. Stepping back, he watched the doctors and nurses swarm around his team minus one. "That was cannon fire, and McKay's still on the planet. I need to go back."

Weir blinked at him. "Cannon fire? What happened?"

"It's a long story. I need to go get McKay."

Her head tilted as she stared at him, and he stared back. Finally she turned to Chuck. "Dial it up."

"Yes, ma'am."

She faced Ronon again. "I'm assuming cannon fire means a battle. How do you know you'll be able to get through the fighting and find McKay?"

"Because I have to," he replied simply, his eyes following the gurneys fleeing the room at top speed.

"I can't get a lock," Chuck called. "Whatever struck the shield here must have damaged the other gate."

"Try again," Weir ordered.

"I've tried three times, ma'am. I can't establish a connection."

"Dial the SGC. Request the Daedalus be diverted back here immediately."

Ronon swallowed thickly at the thought of McKay trapped on that planet. "You have to get me back there."

"There's nothing I can do for the moment," she responded. "I think now might be a good time for that explanation. Walk with me."

He followed her through the corridor that led to the infirmary. "How long will it take for that ship to get here?"

Weir sighed, rubbing small circles in her forehead. "At least three weeks. They should have reached Earth yesterday."

"That's too long. McKay can't survive until then. They blame him for the war."

"What? How is that possible?"

"The Kelthans drugged McKay and had him show them how to build a bomb of nack- narc-"

"Naquadah?"

"Yeah, that. The Thaneks live outside the shield and are a little pissed that they are the Wraith's main food source. The Kelthans, who live inside the shield, got tired of the Thaneks constantly trying to destroy it so instead of being happy with the generator McKay was teaching them to build, they got him to design a bomb in his sleep. The Kelthans used it on the Thaneks who found a way to finally defeat the shield. The attack came as we were leaving. McKay got separated from us in the crowd. If the Thaneks find him…."

She shook her head as she stared at her shoes. "Oh, Rodney. How do you get yourself in these situations?"

"It wasn't McKay's fault. He didn't know he was doing it."

"I know. Only Rodney could start a war in his sleep."

The doors to the infirmary swished open as they approached, and they found an out-of-the-way corner to observe the chaos. Beckett shouted orders as he worked on Sheppard, and nurses hurried to obey, bringing bandages, blood, fluids, and other medical supplies that Ronon couldn't identify. Another doctor, a woman with short blond hair, was frowning at the scanner display as it passed over Teyla. Nurses and techs scurried to do her bidding as well.

"She's bleeding internally. Get her prepped for the OR now," the doctor ordered.

A curtain snapped closed, and the sliver of space between the bottom of the off-white fabric and the cold floor showed pieces of Teyla's attire falling in haphazard piles. After a minute, the curtain whipped back, and the medical team raced from the triage area with the gurney bearing his teammate draped in blue cloths.

"Bloody hell!" Beckett swore as blood squirted like a geyser. "Must have hit an artery. Is the other theatre ready?"

A chorus of "Yes, doctor" filled the air.

"Let's go then, people. He's bleeding out."

Sheppard's gurney was pushed from the room faster than Teyla's had been, strips of bloodied black t-shirt and BDUs lining the path to the operating room. Silence descended like an anvil, broken only by the sound of ragged breathing which Ronon discovered was his own. Weir stood braced in the corner, lips pressed in a thin white line and arms wrapped around her body.

Techs quietly cleaned the vacated area, tossing blood-soaked gauze, destroyed clothing, and ripped gloves into the appropriate containers. An orderly came behind them, his mop and bleach changing the floor from crimson to its original mossy greens and browns.

Ronon waded through the mess and found the halves of Sheppard's tac vest, glaring at the tech who tried to take it until the woman backed off. He dug through the pockets until he found the aviator shades, startling when Weir waved a clean cloth in front of him.

"Thanks." He rinsed the glasses at a nearby sink and dried them with the cloth. "Sheppard will want these back," he explained as he tucked them in his pocket.

"How are you?"

"I'm OK," Ronon answered honestly.

He had learned early on as a runner not to form attachments, and old habits died hard. He liked these people, was honor bound to protect them, but they weren't Satedan, weren't family. He had given up on ever having that again. The decision to stay on Atlantis instead of searching for the three hundred survivors Solen had mentioned had been a hard one, but annihilating the Wraith took precedent. Reuniting with his people would be his reward.

Weir turned to go then stopped. "You did good," she said, "getting them home."

"Not good enough. They're hurt, and McKay's missing."

"That's no more your fault than Rodney's. You got two badly injured teammates to safety. Carson is the best. If anyone can pull them through, he can. Don't give up hope." With a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes, she left.

Hope. He thought hope had died with Melena, that all he had left was hate. Then he met a man in a cave who offered freedom from Wraith tracking devices, a new home, a team, a purpose. He discovered he wasn't alone. The image they had shown him of Sateda in ruins was permanently etched in his mind and haunted his dreams, but lately other images had begun to appear – flying over a city that floated on water, good food to eat and a bed to sleep on, acquaintances who could become friends.

Ronon hovered in the doorway, uncertainty tearing at him. He hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. Teyla and Sheppard were as safe now as he could make them; to stay, to wait would be to open himself to them, to risk the crushing blow of loss again. It was the one thing that scared him.

Swiping at the door controls, he walked stiffly from the room – one, two, three strides – then paused, leaning against the wall and smacking the back of his head hard on it. He glanced to the infirmary then to the transporter. Resolutely retracing his steps, he found an empty chair and settled. To wait.

oOo

"Ronon? Lad?"

The soft, accented voice finally broke the nightmare's grip, and he leapt to his feet, blaster in hand before he realized what he was doing. Beckett stood a bit more than arm's length away, his eyes fixed on the muzzle.

"Don't suppose I could convince you to put that away, now could I?"

"Sorry, Doc," he apologized as he holstered the weapon. "Habit."

"I understand. Not to worry."

Ronon rubbed a hand down his face, trying to scrub away the dream. "How are they?"

"Teyla will be sore for quite a while, but the broken ribs will heal, and Dr. Cole has patched up the internal damage. She won't be kicking your rear in the gym for a couple of months, but she'll be fine."

"And Sheppard?"

"We've removed the bullet which actually caused minimal damage. However, it shattered his scapula… ah, shoulder blade, and a few bone shards pierced an artery which we've repaired. Right now, we are monitoring him for hemorrhage and infection."

"So he'll be fine?"

"Probably," Becket hedged. "Colonel Sheppard is as tough as they come, as tough as you if you don't mind me saying. His body has been through a trauma and is fighting to heal. The next two days are crucial. After that, we'll immobilize his shoulder for a couple of weeks then move on to physio. It will take some time, but he should regain full use of it."

"If he makes it through the next two days."

Beckett smiled kindly and squeezed his arm. "They are in recovery right now and will be there for at least an hour. Why don't you get something to eat?"

Ronon wandered down to the mess hall at the doctor's urging, eating a meal then filling a tray with enough food for three days. He could hear Sheppard's laugh, see Teyla's eye-roll at the gargantuan amount of food he had, but he knew they didn't really understand. How could they? Maybe after a few years his body would remember what it felt like to be full, to not have to worry where the next meal was coming from. Until then, he hoarded. Besides, he didn't intend on leaving the infirmary again for a while. He was committed now.

When he returned the infirmary, Teyla was tucked in a quiet corner, still unconscious but breathing easier. Setting his tray on the rolling table by her bed, he dragged his chair next to her, stretching his legs and folding his arms across his chest.

He must have dozed because he awoke to soft voices and the rustle of sheets.

A nurse smiled gently at him as she passed. "They are bringing Col. Sheppard in."

Minutes later, Sheppard was settled, a pale blotch swathed in white with tentacles that attached to poles dripping red and clear liquids. Machines whirred and beeped around him, and for the first time since they met, Sheppard looked fragile.

Ronon stared at him then leaned down, careful to not touch anything, and whispered, "Hang in there, Sheppard."

Adjusting his chair to center it between their beds, he resumed his vigil. The next couple of hours crept by. He thought about finding a laptop but didn't really know what he'd do with it. The only two people he'd spent any kind of time with were unconscious. He tried remembering the address of every world he'd visited, envisioned the faces of his family on his betrothal day, recalled as many Wraith kills as he could – anything to stave off the memories of Melena dying.

The Lanteans had been amused and a bit irritated at his avoidance of the infirmary. Some said he thought he was too tough; others said he was too primitive. In reality, it was the smell, that sterile odor that made his eyes sting. All medical facilities carried that scent, the one guaranteed to trigger flashbacks to that day of explosions, fire, death and capture. Sometimes he heard her scream as she burned.

A subtle shift in Teyla's breathing caught his attention. Standing, he clasped her hand lightly. "Hey."

Blinking groggily, she frowned at him. "What happened?"

"You got trampled."

Her frown deepened. "Col. Sheppard? Dr. McKay?"

"Sheppard's in the next bed. McKay's still on the planet."

"What?" she slurred. "I do not understand."

Ronon brushed the hair from her forehead. "Go to sleep. I'll tell you when you wake up."

"No, I…." She struggled but lost. Eyes drifting shut, she was asleep in seconds.

Nurses and doctors ventured in and out of the area, checking vitals and displays. Sheppard eventually opened his eyes at Beckett's prodding but immediately fell asleep again. When Teyla finally woke long enough to listen and comprehend, Ronon related the events from Kelther.

Alarm spread across her features. "Three weeks?"

"I know. What else can we do?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "Without the Ring there is no way to reach him." She kneaded the blanket with her fingers. "Do you think he will survive?"

"No. Even if he's alive and they don't execute him, he won't last long in prison."

"Dr. McKay is stronger than even he realizes. Do not discount him."

"He never stops talking, can't hunt or track or fight, can barely shoot. He's arrogant and condescending to everybody. Why is he even on the team?"

"Because Col. Sheppard asked him to be. Do not forget that he saved our lives not long ago on that prison island. You must look at more than just the surface, Ronon. He can be quite… abrasive, but he has a good heart, and I have no doubt he would sacrifice his life to save any one of us. He hides his concern; he seems to fear letting others close to him. Like many here," she added pointedly.

"He's a coward most of the time."

"He is a scientist not a soldier. Do not expect him to act like one. It is our duty to protect him."

"We aren't there to protect him right now, and the Thaneks didn't strike me as a forgiving type of people. McKay was probably dead before we got to the Ring."

"We must not lose hope."

He grunted in reply as Cole interrupted to check Teyla's stitches. Retreating to give them some privacy, he was surprised to find Sheppard staring at him. "Hey."

"What did you say about McKay?"

"Didn't know you could hear that."

"Answer me. Where is he?"

Ronon blew out a breath. "Still on Kelther."

"What?" Anger and fear flickered across Sheppard's face only to be replaced with pain as he struggled to sit up.

Gripping Sheppard's shoulders gently, Ronon held him down. "Stop. You'll rip the stitches. It took Beckett hours to put them in there."

Sheppard quit twisting and glared at him. "Why haven't you gone to get McKay?"

"Gate's busted. Weir sent for the Daedalus."

"That will take weeks!"

"Yeah, that's what she said."

Grimacing again, Sheppard stared at the ceiling, breathing slowly through his mouth. "We left him behind."

"Not on purpose. I was going back for him."

"We shouldn't have left without him."

"Didn't have much of a choice."

"We don't leave our people behind!"

"And we focus on the ones we can save!" Ronon shouted. "You and Teyla were hurt, maybe dying. Even if I'd known the gate would get damaged, I would've still done the same thing. If I'd have gone back for McKay, you'd be dead right now. Same with Teyla."

"I know," Sheppard whispered through gritted teeth. "But of all… of us, why… McKay?"

"You OK?"

Sweat beaded on Sheppard's forehead, and the muscles in his neck corded. "Hurts."

Red began to seep through the bandage and drip to the floor. Ronon dashed around the corner, yelling for Beckett. Nurses raced past him, alarms beginning to beep wildly.

"What's wrong?" Beckett questioned as he flew from his office.

"Sheppard's bleeding bad."

Beckett sprinted forward, shouting orders as he rolled Sheppard on his side and exposed the wound. Blood flowed freely through split stitches. "He's torn something inside. We need to get him back in the operating theatre."

Sheppard looked like a corpse: drained of color – an almost waxy complexion – and totally limp. The med team raced away, still working furiously.

"Ronon?" Teyla called softly.

Turning slowly, he made his way to her side, not watching the techs clean Sheppard's blood from the floor again. He pulled his chair to the unaffected side of Teyla's bed and took a seat.

"This is not your fault. Col. Sheppard does not blame you."

"He will if McKay dies."

"He takes his responsibility for the safety of everyone here very seriously. He will blame himself."

"Do you think I should have gone after McKay?"

"No, and neither will Col. Sheppard once he has time to think through it. He ordered the dart carrying Dr. McKay and Lt. Cadman shot down not long ago because to allow the dart to escape would have endangered other lives. He will come to the same conclusion here. He simply needs time."

"They really don't leave people behind?"

She smiled as she reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. "They do not."

He held her hand until she fell asleep again. A few hours later, Sheppard was wheeled back in, fresh bandages covering his neck, upper chest and right shoulder. Standing, Ronon moved to the foot of Sheppard's bed, trying to figure out the man before him. So different from Kell, his Satedan taskmaster.

Kell had been a traitor and a coward, interested in saving only himself and willing to sacrifice thousands to do so. He had been brutal, self-centered, and unconcerned about anyone or anything that didn't profit him.

Sheppard…. An enigma in some ways, a kindred spirit in others. Ronon knew deep inside that Sheppard would fight to his last breath to protect them, that he'd never sell them out. He had searched unflaggingly for Ford, still asked every people they encountered for information on the missing lieutenant. He was genuinely fearful for McKay, a man who had broken his trust, something Kell would have punished severely.

When he'd first arrived, Ronon had considered the Lanteans soft, dependent on superior technology to protect themselves. Perhaps what he had seen as softness was instead a different way to relate. Knowing someone had your back and would always come for you gave a sense of security, a strength of will not easily defeated. Maybe McKay had a better chance of surviving than he'd originally thought.

oOo

The next three weeks passed in slow motion. Teyla was released to her quarters after a couple of days. Sheppard steadily improved once Beckett sewed his shoulder up a second time, and Ronon split his days helping Teyla get around and fetching things for Sheppard. He'd never seen people work so hard to get well; most soldiers he'd dealt with milked injuries for all they were worth. Once he was released, Sheppard lifted weights with his good arm and walked for hours. After the shoulder sling was removed, the three of them spent long hours in the gym practicing range of motion and stretching exercises.

One evening, Teyla headed to the mainland to celebrate the end of planting with her people, leaving him and Sheppard alone in the gym. They ran through their usual stretches and began on forms, some Satedan and some Athosian. Sheppard was sweat-soaked, grimacing in pain by the time they finished the fourth one.

"Let's take a break," Ronon suggested, mindful of Beckett's request to not let Sheppard push too hard.

"Can't," Sheppard panted. "Got three more to go." He set his feet in stance and hissed as he pulled his right hand to his ear to start the fifth form.

Shrugging, Ronon grabbed a water bottle and took a seat on the bench. "Suit yourself."

"Giving up?" Circle with the left hand, bend knees and step right over left.

"Nope, just watching you do it wrong."

"Then why don't you show me?" Spin, kick with left foot, punch with right arm. Sheppard gasped when his right arm extended fully, breaking form.

"That's why. Your body isn't ready yet. Stop pushing it."

Sagging slightly, Sheppard snatched a bottle and parked himself on the bench too. "I have to. The Daedalus is due in a couple of days. I have to be ready."

Ronon watched him out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps it was the pain or the fatigue, but whatever the reason, Sheppard's face was completely transparent. So determined. And afraid.

"I don't get it."

"What?"

"The two of you have barely spoken the past few weeks yet you're killing yourself trying to get back in shape to go get him. You've got a lot of soldiers here who can do it."

Sheppard leaned back and closed his eyes. "McKay is my responsibility."

"He betrayed your trust."

One eye opened. "And you think that's unforgivable?"

"You don't?"

"He made an error in judgment, let his ego get ahead of his commonsense. While I may still have reservations about trusting him in a similar situation, that's no reason to give up on him or toss him off the team. He's human; he made a mistake."

"He destroyed a solar system."

"And I woke up the Wraith." Sheppard sat upright with a sigh. "I didn't do it on purpose, and while I still wouldn't leave our people in enemy hands, I would make a few better choices if I'd known then what I know now. McKay had a hard lesson to learn, but he'll bounce back." Swallowing the rest of the water, Sheppard pushed to his feet. "Now, why don't you show me number five?"

Ronon joined him, correcting his stance and shoulder position, and together they moved silently through five, six and seven. He wondered if he would ever understand Sheppard and his unwavering loyalty, a loyalty Ronon hoped extended to him as well. For the first time in a long time, the tightness in his chest eased. Joining Sheppard's team had been a good decision.

oOo

On the day the Daedalus arrived, they were gearing up in the ready room when Beckett walked in.

"And what do you two think you're doing?"

Sheppard never paused. "We're going, Doc."

"You are in no condition-"

"I'm not leaving the ship." Sheppard checked the ammo in his Glock and tucked an extra clip in his vest. "They'll recognize us. Lorne's beaming down to the planet to get McKay."

"Then why all the gear and weapons?"

"Because I'm not taking any chances." Sheppard grabbed a radio then faced Beckett. "Rodney's been down there, alone, for three weeks. I have to go."

"As do I," Teyla murmured. "Please do not try to stop us."

Beckett reached for a vest and gun. "Let's go then."

oOo

The longest part of the mission was waiting for Lorne's signal. By the time they got McKay off the sickbay floor and into a bed, the Daedalus had reached Atlantis. Beaming directly to the infirmary, Beckett rushed McKay to a secluded spot while Sheppard paced and Teyla withdrew into herself.

A few minutes later Weir and Zelenka joined them. Teyla scooted over to allow Weir to sit next to her on the bed, and Zelenka, laptop in hand, pulled a chair up. Ronon slouched against a wall to observe. The level of concern they had for McKay still surprised him. The women whispered quietly, but their eyes never left the curtained area where Beckett had hidden McKay. Zelenka worked steadily but glanced in the same direction on a regular basis. Sheppard stood by himself, arms crossed and shoulders taut with tension, completely devoid of his usual casualness.

When the curtain rustled and Beckett emerged, Sheppard shot forward. "How is he, Doc?"

"Overall, in better shape than I thought we'd find him in. He's a little malnourished, and fluid has built up in his lungs which is causing a fever and that hacking cough you hear. I've started him on antibiotics and oxygen." Beckett scrubbed a hand over his face. "It will take some time, but he should recover fully."

"May we see him, Doctor?" Teyla asked.

"For a minute. He's in and out of consciousness; I doubt he'll remember anything you say." Beckett speared Teyla and Sheppard with a look. "Then I want the two of you to rest. Your bodies are still recovering, and I don't want to take any chances."

The mutinous expression on Sheppard's face spurred Ronon forward. "Don't worry, Doc. I'll make sure they get some rest."

As the group gathered around McKay's bed, Sheppard whispered, "What are you planning to do? Stun me?"

"Don't tempt me." He arched a brow. "Beckett didn't say where you had to rest, did he?"

Sheppard's smile almost reached his eyes. "As a matter of fact, he didn't."

"Lots of beds in this place."

Ronon grinned at Sheppard's chuckle as Weir squeezed McKay's arm and murmured a welcome home. Zelenka updated him at breakneck speed on ongoing projects. Teyla gathered his hand in hers and simply held it. Sheppard gripped his shoulder tightly, reminding him he was home. Ronon stood out of their way and tried to not be jealous.

When Sheppard began to waver on his feet, Ronon guided him to the nearest bed. "Don't worry. I'll watch over McKay."

Sheppard nodded wearily and sank into the pillow. "Thanks, Big Guy. I know you will."

Ronon waited until Sheppard's breathing evened out into sleep before turning back to McKay. The flush of fever was the only color he had, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead even in the dim night cycle lighting. Teyla stroked the back of his hand as he twitched and muttered incoherently.

"You OK?" Ronon asked.

"I am fine. I see Col. Sheppard's trust in you has not diminished."

"Can't do a lot of damage here."

She smiled. "If the colonel did not trust you, it would not matter where you were."

McKay jerked, his breath catching. "Sorry. So sorry. Please don't leave me. Please." The words dissolved into a strangling cough.

"Thought you said they don't leave their people behind."

"They do not," Teyla answered. "It is the fever talking."

"I've heard fever talk many times. It's usually when men are the most honest. Does he know that rule?"

"Of course. Col. Sheppard has said it many times."

"Guess he doesn't know it applies to him too."

Frowning, she pulled her hand from McKay's and reached for a damp cloth. When she broke contact, Rodney reached out blindly.

"I deserve it. Guilty. Don't tell Jeannie what I did."

"Shhhhhh," Teyla soothed as she wiped his face with the cloth. "You are safe." She glanced at Ronon. "Do you think he really believes we left him on purpose?"

"Maybe. Who's Jeannie?"

"Perhaps his sister? He mentioned he had one."

"Sorry, Sheppard," McKay mumbled. "Know you hate me. Screwed up again. Can't do anything right anymore."

"God, McKay."

Ronon caught Sheppard's eyes glittering in the light. "He's delirious."

"I noticed. Rodney would never consciously say that out loud."

Teyla dipped the cloth in the cool water again and placed it on McKay's forehead. Holding his hand again, she quietly sang in the Ancestral tongue. McKay squirmed for a minute then settled with a sigh.

"What do you want to do?"

Sheppard ran his fingers through his hair as he failed to stifle a yawn. "Don't let him know we heard. Reassure him he's safe and that we'd never abandon him. Find a way to fight the insecurity without feeding the ego." Eyes drifting closed, he jerked back to wakefulness then surrendered to sleep.

Ronon tugged the sheet over Sheppard, patting his shoulder gently. "You're safe, too."

Sheppard shifted with a grunt and slipped further into sleep.

When Ronon turned, he found Teyla slumped over McKay's bed, his hand still in hers. Disentangling them, he carried her to the next bed and tucked her in.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Didn't mean to. Don't be mad."

Moving to McKay's side, he gripped the man's forearm tightly. "You're safe, Rodney. You're home."

"Ron'n? Came for me?"

"Yep. We don't leave our people behind, remember?"

"Oh." McKay curled toward the touch and grew still.

Without withdrawing his hand, Ronon drew the chair closer and sprawled in it. To watch over his team. And to wait.

"_We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is __waiting__ for us.__" _

_Joseph Campbell_

* * *

_Leesa's fic can be found at __leesaperrie./AtlantisStoryPages/AtlPrison1.html__. Written for the sheppardhc remix challenge. Thanks to kristen999 for the wonderful beta. She made everything better. All faults are mine._


	29. Evidence of Existence

_A/N: Spoilers through Sunday._

**Evidence of Existence**

Teyla perched on the sturdiest part of the remaining wall, her shoulders slumping as she brushed the hair out of her eyes and dabbed at the sweat streaking her cheeks. The water from her canteen provided sweet refreshment as she scowled at the binary suns peeking through breaks in a cloudy sky. Living inside a climate-controlled city had softened her to the whims of nature, especially to humidity.

"How much longer is he going to be?" Ronon grumbled.

John slid to the ground next to Teyla and squinted up at their teammate. "However long it takes. I know this isn't the most exciting mission we've ever been on, but none of us need exciting right now, least of all McKay. It's the first thing he's shown interest in since Carson-" He cleared his throat. "-since we got back."

"I know," Ronon admitted, "but we've been here for hours. There's nothing here but rocks with a few carvings on them. No technology, no weapons, nothing we can use." He lifted his face to the sky. "And there's a storm coming."

John shook his head. "Ronon-"

"He's right." Rodney ducked under a stone arch and joined them, leaning against a crumbling pillar and wiping his hands on the back of his pants. "The scanner is showing powerful energy readings in the area, but half the text on the stone is missing. I can't locate the source of the readings or an entrance to a lab." In the shocked silence, he added, "Not without some specialized equipment."

Teyla's gaze swept over her team. They had returned from Earth last week, drinking in Atlantis like thirsty men in a desert. Once back in familiar environs, healing began. For some. Ronon had taken his grief out on four practice dummies in the gym. Rodney had hidden himself in his quarters at first but had recently been spotted in his lab and the control room. But John…. Carson's death was hitting him hard just as he'd feared. He tried to hide it, to push it away, but unconsciously his eyes never left them – in the mess hall, in the rec room, in the gym, in staff meeting. The purple smudges and fine lines around his eyes spoke of insomnia and nightmares, and stress never let the muscles in his shoulders relax.

Sheppard pinched the bridge of his nose then pushed to his feet with a sigh. "Guess we should head back then."

The gate faced the base of a mountain range that was a two hour hike through a gorge away. The gorge was deep, and the small stream that trickled along the floor indicated a large water source nearby. Gathering their belongings, they began a silent trudge back as the air grew heavy and charged, carrying the scent of rain. The trek was difficult, a steep winding trail of small jagged rocks that crunched and slid under their feet. Thunder rolled in the distance as wind whipped around them. They were halfway to the bottom of the ravine when rain began to pelt their faces.

Brushing the water from his face, John turned to them. "What do you think?"

Ronon's eyes narrowed as he scanned the area. "Nothing but rock. No trees, no caves."

"Yeah, I noticed," John replied.

Teyla glanced over her shoulder at the roiling black clouds. "The worst part of the storm is behind us. It would be difficult to return to the ruins."

"Can we go? Getting wet here," Rodney huffed, stuffing his tablet pack under his jacket.

John rolled his eyes but nodded. "Let's pick up the pace a little.

The rain had turned into a downpour by the time they started up the other side an hour later. Teyla raked her fingers through her hair and was rebanding it when Ronon froze suddenly then turned in a slow circle.

John brought his P-90 to bear. "What is it?"

"Don't know yet."

Teyla quieted her breathing and focused on the storm. The wind howled like a _prebol_ in heat while the thunder shook the ground and made the air vibrate. Lightening slashed through the green-tinged sky, spotlighting the clouds that began a lazy swirl to their right. A roaring unlike any she'd ever heard echoed through the chasm as rocks trickled and tumbled past them.

"Tornado?" Rodney shouted.

"Flood! We need to move now!" Ronon grabbed McKay by the collar. "Now!"

Water careened through the canyon, a white-tipped wall of gray bearing down on them, churning furiously. Slippery stone tripped them every step of the way, slicing hands, knees, and elbows as they raced upward.

They almost made it.

The wave hit, and the entire world turned upside down. Teyla was lifted and tossed like a doll, much like she'd been the day Carson died. Plunging under the water, she was lost in darkness, uncertain of which way was up. Battered on all sides by rocks and debris. Lungs burning. Flailing wildly.

A hand caught her hair and yanked. She gulped in water along with precious oxygen when she broke the surface. Gagging, she coughed until her throat burned, but she couldn't get enough water out and enough air in. She kicked, trying to get her head higher. Her vision began to gray at the edges. When something snaked under her arms and around her chest, she struggled with the little strength she had left.

"Teyla, stop fighting me and breathe," John ordered. "I've got you."

Clutching John's arm, she relaxed into him, tipping her head back on his shoulder until her face was clear of the water. Taking slow, deep breaths, she forced herself to be still as he steadily made his way to land. When her fingers touched the dirt and shale, she clawed her way out of the water, coughing and gagging until only oxygen remained in her lungs.

John flopped down beside her, panting heavily. "You okay?"

Her throat raw, she chose to nod in answer.

"Good," he said, though the fear in his eyes remained, growing a bit when he reached for a radio that wasn't there. "Do you have your radio?"

Teyla touched her ear, but the comm was gone. Checking her vest, she pulled the hand-held unit out and handed it to him.

Twisting it on, John called, "Ronon? Rodney? You there?"

The radio popped and hissed at him.

"Ronon! Answer me, damn it!" His voice held a hint of panic.

Static gurgled in reply.

"McKay, talk to me." His knuckles whitened around the radio. "Please," he whispered.

Teyla crawled to his side and took the hand-held from him. "They may still be trying to find a safe place to wait. Or they may have also lost their radios."

His face twisted in sorrow. "Or they could be-"

"John," she interrupted hoarsely, "we must focus on finding a more stable piece of land for ourselves. Ronon will be doing the same. I believe the worst of the storm has passed, but night is falling. We cannot search for them in the dark."

John's eyes shuttered as his expression resolved to neutral. "You're right." Climbing to his feet, he offered her a hand up while he surveyed the region. "Still no shelter, but I see a ledge with an overhang that should provide some protection from the wind and rain."

Teyla squeezed his hand lightly then pushed her hair out of her eyes. Again. The climb was arduous, scraping already sliced up hands and knees, but the ledge was stable and the overhang shielded them from most of the elements. Slumping to the ground, she leaned her head against the stone and breathed.

The rip of Velcro caught her ear. Rolling her head to the side, she watched John pull everything out of his vest pockets. She followed suit and ten minutes later they had a recounting of the meager provisions the raging waters had left them. Two half-filled canteens, four soggy PowerBars, waterproof matches, one hand grenade, one P-90 with an extra magazine, antibiotic cream, gauze, and the knife she'd received during her Age of Accountability ceremony.

"Let's clean up some of these scrapes," John said, unfolding the no longer sterile gauze and gently wiping her hands then applying the cream.

"How do you feel?" Teyla asked as he repeated the process on her knees.

John winced as he touched a spot on the back of his head. "Got slammed into a rock pretty hard, and I'm sure my bruises have bruises, but otherwise I'm fine."

"No concussion?"

"No," he said, "just one hell of a headache. You?"

"I hit my side on a boulder."

"The side you had surgery on?"

"Yes," Teyla admitted, "but I do not believe it to be serious. Just a bruise."

"Let me see."

"It is not neces-"

"Let me see," John insisted.

Gingerly removing her tac vest, she pulled up the hem of her shirt to expose the area in question. He winced at the jagged scar that had not yet faded but did not hesitate to press lightly on the already mottled skin surrounding it. She hissed as he hit a tender spot.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he sat back. "You were right about the bruise, but I can't feel any cracks or breaks."

A huge yawn overtook her without warning. The events of the day and the encroaching darkness were exacting a toll.

"Get some sleep," John said. "I'll keep watch."

Stretching out carefully, Teyla shifted until she was the least uncomfortable, snacking on the PowerBar he handed her. Sleep tugged at her, wet clothes and all. With a sigh, she surrendered to it as the rain continued to fall.

oOo

A shift in the air around her and mumbled words jerked her back to wakefulness, and she rose up on an elbow, blinking tiredly. John sat on the lip of the ledge, his legs dangling into the void below, whispering into the radio.

"Ronon? Rodney? Are you there?"

No answer.

"Damn it," he hissed. "Where are you?"

Sitting up, Teyla called, "John?"

His shoulders hunched when she spoke. "Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I am certain that they are fine."

"I hope you're right," he sighed, tucking the radio in his vest and tilting his head back to stare at the stars. "The rain finally stopped."

Crawling to his side, she cautiously swung her legs over the side and followed his gaze upward to a clear sky and quarter moon. "The stars are beautiful."

"Yeah," John agreed. "It's been a long time since I've been somewhere without lights to obscure the view."

"I understand. Our fires on Athos hid some of the stars from our sight although we knew they were there. Many things can be hidden from sight, but evidence of their existence still remains."

She paused, searching for something comforting to say, a bit of wisdom from her father or Charin that would alleviate his pain. His body was so rigid with tension she feared he would turn to stone.

"Today is my mother's sixty-fifth birthday," he said into the silence.

Is. Not would have been. Teyla blinked in amazement. "I thought you didn't have any family." She knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, had not meant to say it, but the words were out before she could stop them.

The walls slammed into place, the distance between them as large as the chasm they stared into.

And just as suddenly, it was gone.

His shoulders slumped, his entire body wilting before her eyes. "There's family and then there's family."

Teyla had been trained since childhood to read people, to see their strengths and weaknesses in their expressions, body language, speech patterns. She had excelled at it, joining her father in trade negotiations before her fourteenth summer. Few people were able to hide their thoughts and feelings from her – the cues were there if one knew where to look. John was no different. He hid himself beneath a cheerful exterior and cocky comments, but the fine muscles in his face tightened when he was angry, he scrubbed the back of his neck when he was frustrated, his eyes turned stormy when he hurt and became flat when he was cornered.

But in the three years Teyla had known John, he had never opened himself up emotionally to any of them, had never been totally vulnerable, not even on board the Daedalus when they were searching for Ronon. It simply was not John's way. Yet when he turned to face her, the mask had crumbled completely, his expression a heartbreaking mixture of pain and fear.

"I have a biological family like anyone else," John began, "but that's all they are. What I told you before was true – you guys are the closest thing to a real family that I have."

"And now you've lost Carson."

His hands clenched, his BDUs bunching in his fingers. "Of all the people…. I mean, we face dangers everyday, but he was a doctor. He was supposed to defeat death not surrender himself to it."

"Death claims us all eventually, John," she reminded him quietly. "You cannot prevent that."

The trembling started in his arms but soon spread to the rest of his body. "I know," he whispered. "That's what I'm afraid of. I'm not sure I can lose one more person I care about much less two."

Placing a hand on top of his, she curled his fingers around his palm and stroked his knuckles with her thumb. "Nor I."

"I've lost people before, people I cared about, but this is different somehow."

Teyla sighed, leaning against him as the cool night air combined with her damp clothing to chill her through. "I have spent my life watching those around me die, whether by disease or culling or accident. Each time, I thought the grief would be less, but instead it was more. Our experiences shape who we are, how we think, what we feel. When we lose a loved one, we cherish those left all the more. When my mother and sister died, I thought no pain could equal it. Then my father was culled."

John was quiet for a moment, his mask slowly reforming. "You had a sister?" he finally asked.

She smiled sadly. "Terrena."

"Older or younger?"

"She was older. By eight minutes. We had just celebrated our sixth summer when she died. _Monsof_ fever."

"I have a brother," John confessed haltingly. "Dave. He's three years younger than me."

"Were you ever close?"

He shifted uncomfortably, staring straight ahead. "Not really."

"It is alright, John. You do not have to-"

"My mother left when I was seven." The tension was back, worse than before. "One day she was just gone." He sighed, shaking his head. "I spent a lot of years thinking it was my fault." His jaw tightened, and he tossed a loose stone into the night.

"Surely you know now that is not true."

"Yeah," his mouth said. '_No_,' said his eyes.

"What did your father do?"

"Hid himself in his work."

Teyla had always thought that nothing could be more painful than losing a parent to the Wraith. She'd been wrong. Selfishness was worse. "The loss did not bring you closer together," she surmised.

John snorted derisively. "Hardly. My father was already a difficult man to get along with, and with her… gone we were three strangers living in the same house."

"And your brother?"

"David craved our father's attention and approval, would do anything, _anything_ for it; all I-" John paused, releasing a shaky breath, "all I wanted was to live my own life."

"What happened between you?" she asked softly.

"When I refused to join the family business, my father, um, he kind of disowned me. Dave sided with him. I haven't spoken to either of them in over ten years."

"Is there no hope of reconciliation between you?"

John's mouth twisted bitterly. "I don't think so. My father told me to get out and never come back. Dave and I, well, we never had much in common anyway. If you can't make a lot of money from it, he isn't interested."

"And your mother?"

"I haven't seen her since she left." He ducked his head. "But I traced her during the weeks we were reassigned to Earth. She's been living in Miami, uh, that's a city on Earth, for the past twenty-five years."

A mother abandoning her child was not unheard of in Pegasus, but it was very rare. On Athos, life was considered sacred and family was prized above all else. The loneliness that John must have felt broke Teyla's heart.

"You have a new home and a new family now, John. We will not abandon you."

"Maybe not on purpose-" John smiled ruefully as he lifted his face to the stars again. "I think I've spent too much time around McKay. I seem to be picking up his pessimism."

Teyla thumped him on the ear.

"Hey! What was that for?"

Amusement danced in her eyes. "If you are McKay then I get to be Ronon."

"You are too short," John pronounced.

She laughed. "And you have too much hair."

"McKay will have-"

Static hissed and popped from his vest. John ripped open his pocket as the radio squawked.

"_Sh… ard… there? C… hear me?_"

"Rodney!" John screamed into the radio. "Where are you?"

"_Sheppard? You there?_"

"McKay! Can you hear me?"

"_Oh, there you are. I told you it would work_."

"What would work? Is Ronon with you? Are you okay?"

"_Yeah, Ronon's here. He's been yelling at me for the past four hours while I tried to cobble together a radio with parts of two broken ones without any tools. You have no idea how hard_-"

A dull thud sounded, and muttered curses in three languages came through.

"McKay?"

"_The next flood we're caught in, I get to be stranded with someone other than McKay_," Ronon huffed. "_Is Teyla with you?_"

"She's here. We're fine. We're on a ledge about twenty feet above the waterline. I'm not sure which side of the gorge we're on though."

"_I think we're on the stargate side about halfway to the top._"

"The terrain is too treacherous to stumble around in the dark. As soon as it's light enough, we'll find each other and get out of here."

"_Suns should be up in a couple of hours_."

"A couple of hours then. Try not to kill McKay in the meantime."

Ronon snorted. "_No promises_." Rodney's protests were silenced when the radio went silent.

John grinned happily at the hand-held then slid it in his pocket with a pat. "They're okay."

Teyla beamed at him. "So it would seem."

"You're not going to say 'I told you so' are you?"

She blinked innocently. "Would I do something like that?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "You live for stuff like that. Don't think I don't know that you were the one that posted that photo from M2Y-483 on the base intranet. I can't believe I fell for that tribal custom routine again."

"That skirt showed off your legs so well," Teyla giggled.

"The microphone in Ronon's shower?"

"Who knew he had such a wonderful singing voice?"

John cocked his head to the side. "How did you get the trumpet fanfare to play every time Rodney entered a room?"

She grinned slyly at him. "A woman never reveals her secrets."

He studied her for a minute, his shrewd eyes suddenly widening. "Elizabeth is in on it with you, isn't she?"

Arching a brow, Teyla shrugged. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Of course you don't."

Scooting back with a laugh, she curled onto her uninjured side, pillowing her head on her arm. "Are you going to get some sleep?"

"Not sleepy. I think I'll watch the suns rise."

oOo

Two and a half hours later, they were on the move. Based on the location of the sunsrise, John determined they were also on the stargate side of the ravine. A strange game he referred to as Marco Polo led them to Rodney and Ronon thirty minutes later. When they reached the top, they found two squads of Marines heading toward them.

"Good to see you, Sir," Captain Wilkes greeted, saluting.

John returned the salute with a grin. "It's good to be seen, Captain."

"Yes, yes. You're timing is impeccable as always," Rodney groused. "I'm cold, wet, and starving. Can we go now?" He glared as Ronon flicked his ear.

Teyla bit back a smile as John met her eyes with a chuckle. A weight had lifted from his shoulders when they had first spotted Ronon and Rodney. John's step had lightened the closer they got to the stargate and home. New lines were permanently etched on his face, and while the storm in his eyes had not passed yet, it was beginning to die down. Patting her shoulder lightly, John nudged Rodney with his elbow and slapped Ronon on the back as he passed, leading the way to the gate.

"Let's go home."

* * *

_Written for madjm for the John & Teyla Thing-a-Thon. Prompt: stranded, stars, reflection, laughter. Thanks to kristen999 for the beta. She made everything better. All faults are mine._

_This is the last entry for these one-shots. Coming soon: One-shots Part 2 which will include S5 spoilers. Thanks to all of you who have read these stories. And HUGE HUGS to those who have reviewed. I love hearing from you._


End file.
